I’m thinking about writing a “book” about my journey from weighing 278 lbs to training for the Boston Marathon. Not that I ever made that goal, but I found out that the journey became the destination.

Below is the introduction I’ve been working though. I don’t know that I have many readers on this blog since I started this blog so long ago and haven’t kept up with it over the recent years, but I figured I’d post this for myself and to keep me motivated. We will see where this goes, if anywhere.

Introduction: 278 to Boston

At 278 pounds, I wasn’t dreaming about Boston.

I was thinking about how to walk up stairs without gasping. How to feel normal in my own body. How to be here — present — for my family. I knew I was carrying more than weight; I was carrying years of habits, regret, and missed chances. But I also knew this: I didn’t want to stay there.

With the help of my doctors, I lost the first 50 pounds. That was the start. But what came next surprised even me. One day, I laced up a pair of shoes and ran a mile and a half. It wasn’t graceful, and it certainly wasn’t fast — but I did it. And something in me shifted.

My family had always been full of runners. My dad ran many marathons. So did my brothers. It was in our blood, somehow — I used that as my inspiration. But what pushed me forward most was my son. He looked at me one day and said, “We should run a marathon together.” That’s all it took. I wasn’t just losing weight anymore. I had a mission.

Somewhere along the line, Boston entered the conversation. Not because I thought I could qualify — I knew the time standards, and I knew my body wasn’t there. But Boston became something more than a race. It became a symbol. A direction. A way to measure effort, progress, and hope.

The way I kept going — through the plateaus, the setbacks, the long runs, and long days — was through habits. Small, daily decisions. Waking up early. Eating what fueled me instead of what numbed me. Logging miles when I didn’t feel like it. Writing it all down. I didn’t change overnight. I changed through consistency. God used habits to steady my heart and retrain my body.

That’s how my blog was born — 278 to Boston. It started as a way to track miles and meals, but quickly became something deeper. A record of struggle and progress. A place where I could be honest about what it takes to change. Not just physically, but spiritually.

Because through every run, through every pound lost and mile logged, God was there. Quietly calling me forward. Not toward a race, but toward renewal.

This isn’t a story about making it to Boston. It’s a story about what happened because I tried — and about the habits and grace that carried me farther than I ever imagined.