The number 464...  This number has little to no meaning to the average person.   To me, it means everything.   It's where I've been...  It's where I was...   It's a number that depicts a time in my life when I was physically, and to a large extent emotionally, in a place I never want to be again.   In March 2006 I weighed 464 pounds.

Had someone sat me down and told me that I would be training for a full course, 140.6 Ironman 3 years ago I would have laughed in their face while I reached for another donut and a 2-liter of Coke.    As I look back on that 464 pound, 64 BMI, super-morbidly obese man I realize that laughing , or being even remotely happy was just about as far as one could be from my day to day emotions.   It is humorous to me now when I think about how the world seems to associate fat people with being  jolly.  In my case that couldn't be further from the truth.   I ventured from my home only to go to work or get food, I secluded myself from friends and family, had no social life whatsoever and generally lived in isolation, like a hermit.  I hated who I was and I hated where I was headed.   In a sense, I felt that I had reached and crossed that 'point of no return' with my weight and health and no matter what I did I would never be successful , healthy and loved.

I can't pinpoint any single event that prompted me to start my journey to health.    I would have to say it would be a series of experiences over several years.  

Maybe it was losing my commission and getting removed from duty in the Army.  I couldn't accept a promotion to 1ST Lieutenant  because I was on the Army's weight control program.    Leading by example was one of the most important facets that was engrained into my being during the 14 month training period at reserve Officer Candidate School.   How could I lead by example, standing in front of my platoon, overweight and clearly out of shape?   I was very proud of my accomplishments in the military, so imagine the shame I felt as I had to stand in front of the battalion commander and be stripped of my rank because I was overweight.  Deep down I understood.   Would I want to follow someone into battle that was overweight and out of shape?

Perhaps it was a few years later, as my weight started ballooning out of control, when I attempted to ride a roller coaster at Six-Flags in Washington D.C.  I've always enjoyed theme parks and have very fond childhood memories from the family vacations to various theme parks around the country.   That particular roller coaster, The Wild One, was a classic wooden coaster, which is a variety that I particularly enjoyed.    The guys that I went with were getting a bite to eat so I opted to ride the ride alone.  I distinctly remember the line for the ride was over an hour long but I didn't mind because the 4 minute thrill of the coaster ride was worth it.  I made my way to the front of the line and the excitement built as my coaster pulled into the station.   I squeezed into the seat and was actually so big that my large frame spilled over into the adjoining seat.   As I pulled the lap bar and locked it into place I noticed a seat belt wedged on either side of my hips.  The seatbelt was over a foot short and panic ensued as I realized that there was no way it would fit me.   I noticed the ride attendant walking down the length of the train checking the lap bar and seat belts on each rider.   I frantically yanked up on the lap bar but it wasn't budging.   She got to my car and I showed her each end of the seatbelt and shrugged.  

She looked at me, sighed and then matter-of-factly told me, "Ummm....  Sir, you are too big to be on this ride," in a tone that made me feel about 3" tall.

She then yelled out to one of the other operators that she had a large rider and needed 'the tool' to release the lap bar.   This process took over 5 minutes as 'the tool' wasn't immediately on hand.   The look on my face must have been one of mortification as I gazed straight forward, hanging my head in utter shame and humiliation while I choked back the emotions of disgust that were welling up in my belly.  After they released the lap bar, I slowly squeezed myself from the seat, stumbling as I exited the coaster.  I struggled to stand up as the attendant tapped her feet and pointed to the exit.  As the coaster sped away and the station I started my walk of shame down the exit of the platform in front of the crowd of nearly 200 people waiting for their turn to ride.    My stomach was in knots as I found the nearest bathroom and vomited for the next 10 minutes.

Maybe it was snapping the plastic legs of 3 separate computer chairs before finding one that had industrial metal legs.    Maybe it was breaking my toilet seat because it could no longer support my ever increasing weight.   Maybe it was not being able to do simple things such as bending over and tie my shoes or walking more than a block without soaking my clothes in sweat and feeling like I ran a marathon.  Maybe it was standing on the scale at the doctor's office and seeing the weight of 464 pounds.   I think that was the moment I realized that I had to do something, anything, to get the weight under control.   The simple fact was I would be dead in 5 to 10 years if I didn't do something.

I had attempted weight loss diets in the past with and even had moderate success with them.   I'd lose 80 pounds but would soon slip back into old habits and before I know it I'd have put back on that 80 pounds plus another 40.   It was a vicious cycle that seemed to have no end.   Lose 50, gain 75.  Lose 100 gain 150.   I have probably lost over 1000 pounds in my lifetime if I added it all up.  

After my wake-up call at the doctor's office I started researching surgical weight loss options.   RNY Gastric bypass surgery seemed a viable option for me so I scheduled an appointment with a surgeon in my area and attended some weight loss support group meetings.      I saw the success stories and was somewhat excited but deep down I still feel like RNY would fail too.  I've had no success with other options so why would this work?   It's going to be just another wave of defeat in my continuous weight loss cycle.  

I sat down with my parents and told them that I had decided to have RNY surgery. Initially they were against it but after attending a support group meeting with me they got behind me 100%.  I underwent the procedure on March 22, 2006...  My re-birthday.    

The journey didn't begin well.   Since the initial surgery I have been back under the knife on 3 separate occasions with complications and I've been hospitalized 5 times.  Shortly after the initial surgery I developed a blood clot in my leg.  When the doctors devised a plan to 'fix' the blood clot all the incisions internally started bleeding.   I lost 65% of my total blood volume and was on the verge of transfusions.    After finally getting on the road to recovery, at four months post-op my gall bladder went out so I had to get it removed.  And finally just less than 1 year post-op I had to have another surgery to correct a twisted bowel and internal hernia.  These surgeries were nothing compared to the experience of mentally wrapping my mind around the new way I would be eating.   Going from eating multiple full plates of food to eating what would snugly fit inside of an egg was a very humbling experience.   I guess what I'm trying to say is there was NOTHING easy about this procedure.  It's no magic pill by any means and it is so very unfortunate that I had to resort to such a drastic procedure to give me the tool I needed to lose weight, but the surgery is just that.   It's only a tool.   It's a sad, statistical fact that many people often fail at weight loss surgery.   Surgeons have now devised a revision for people that have failed at the surgery.   Somewhat of a backup plan to the final weight loss solution.  Maintaining my weight loss will always be a daily struggle for me but I now feel like I am finally the EXCEPTION to the rule.   It's a struggle that I know I am winning. 

The next logical step for me on my road to health was to set up a list of goals to get me through the process.   My original goal (http://www.team464.com/goals.php) list included such mundane things as being able to drive my truck without my belly touching the steering wheel,  buying clothes in a non-big and tall store and of course, riding a roller coaster again.    I also had goals to fit in clothes, in increments from size 6X shirts / 62 pants all the way down to Large shirts / 34 pants.  My exercise goals included such items as walking 1 mile to the ultimate goal of running the Crescent City Classic 10K race in New Orleans.    One by one I checked off the goals on my list.   It was a slow process but it showed me, goal by goal that I was making progress and gaining ground.   I ran the Classic and finished every last goal on my list.   My final goal on the original goal list was flying in an airplane without having to wear the fat-boy extender belt.   I caught the moment on camera but had to lie to the stewardess and affirm her question that it was my first flight, even though I had been on many flights before.  

"Baby is this your first flight?" the stewardess asked.

"Umm... Yes, it is.   I'm a little nervous,"  I replied.

"It's OK, I'll check on you throughout the flight," she assured me.

She did just that.   I felt bad for having to fib, but surely, this beautiful woman,  who had never had a weight problem in her life, wouldn't understand what doing something so simple as bucking a seat belt meant to me?   With that click of the belt, and a bunch of room to spare I might add, my original goal list was complete!

Within the next few weeks I started to contemplate what I wanted to do to challenge myself in the upcoming years with a new goal list.  I knew that I wanted to run a marathon and possibly participate in the Boston and the New York races and I had always wanted to do a triathlon as well.  Those items would definitely go on my list...   But what about the Ironman?  

Slowly but surely I started to chip away at my new goal list.   My first major obstacle was the Mardi Gras Marathon which I completed in February of 2008.   At just over 5.5 hours it wasn't a fast finish by any means but it was a finish and crossing that finish line, of my first marathon was one of the most amazing and emotional experiences of my life. 

I had considered doing a few triathlons during the year but never did I think I would gain a passion for the sport and end up doing 20 my first year.   I participated in triathlon events in Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Florida and Nevada.   The first few races were serious wake-up calls and learning experiences for me, especially in the water.   I took each obstacle in stride and by my fifth race of the season everything was falling into place.   I was in no way competitive with other participants.   I always seemed to end up in the middle of the pack for my finishing times.  Whatever my place may be is irrelevant to exactly why I'm out there on the course.   Crossing those finish lines and beating the course is what mattered to me in each and every race.   I'm very competitive, but the competition occurs only between me and the 464 pound man that used to be me.   Keeping that fact in my mind made each and every finish that much sweeter.   I still have yet to see the podium, unless you count my second place finish at the EagleMan triathlon in Hattiesburg, MS.   The only significant catch is that I was mistakenly put in the FEMALE 35 - 39 category.    Since I don't possess the necessary equipment to be considered a female I had to relinquish my 2nd place finish.  Sheesh, I would be a really ugly, hairy woman.  :)

I also had the honor of helping my triathlon club, Baton Rouge Tri, compete in and win both the State and National club championships this year.   The Pumpkinman / Halfmax, the destination for this year's national club championship is an olympic distance / 70.3 race held in Nevada just outside of Las Vegas,  This race was hands down the most difficult course I've been on so far this year.   (6.5 miles at 8% grade is just not something you'll find in Louisiana and as such there really isn't a way to prepare for a monster hill like that!)  At this race I had the privilege of meeting and being blessed by Sister Madonna Buder before the race as well as starting 3 feet from 2007 World Champion Chris McCormack.   How many sports in the world can compete on the same course at the same time as the pros?   AND, how cool was it to give Mr. McCormack a fist bump and wish him well for that race?   It was surreal to say the least.   Oh, I was able to draft off MACCA in the swim for around...  2 feet?  :)

But I asked myself again, what about the Ironman? 

I had always enjoyed watching the Ironman on TV every year, and like most of the viewers, I got emotional when I saw Rick and Dick's story and the stories of John Blaise, Sister Madonna and the other amazing athletes that did the race.  Surely there was no way I would ever be able to swim 2.4 miles, bike 112 mile and run 26.2 all in the same day.   Could I actually do something like that?   When I scribbled  the goal down of the Ironman Championship Series when I built my new goal list I never actually thought I would be at a fitness level where I could complete that race or any Ironman distance race for that matter.   Even in the middle of last season when I had the humbling experience of crossing the finish line LAST and with one sock at the Tri-America Long Course (1.24 miles swimming / 40 miles biking / 10 miles running) in Mandeville, LA, I never thought I could ever attempt that distance.     Did I really think I had what it takes to be an Ironman?

Well, it's no longer IF I can complete the Ironman, it's WHEN.   My dream, like many triathlete's dreams is to do Kona and how amazingly special would it be to have that finish line be my first?   I know that I can be an inspiration to many because I have the determination, the desire and most importantly the HEART to be an Ironman.    It's only a matter of time.  Be it Florida (November 2009) or Hawaii, (October 2009) the moment my foot touches that finish line mat and I hear Mike Reilly finally tell me that I am an Ironman will be the moment that I can unequivocally declare that I have WON my battle against obesity!

My triathlon journey didn't start when I got on the bike for the first time or when I ran the first 100 meters from my driveway to the stop sign down the street.   It didn't start when I struggled greatly in the icy waters off Galveston Bay during my first open water swim.    My journey to Iron started when I was booted off that roller coaster for being too big;  it started when I stared in dismay at the number 464 on the scale;  it started when I lost my commission in the Army;  it started when I finally realized that it was TIME to make a CHANGE! 

I will leave you with a passage that I wrote in my race report for the Mardi Gras Marathon:
http://www.team464.com/mardigrasmarathon2008/

"So what's next for Team 464 and Chad you may ask?  Fast forward 18 - 24 months to Kona, Hawaii.  It's 11PM and the humidity in the air is thick.  Bib number 464 makes his way around the corner on Alii Drive with the finish line in sight.  Tears streaming down his face he crosses the finish line as the announcer shouts out...  "CHAD SOILEAU... YOU ARE AN I-R-O-N-M-A-A-A-N!!!" 

Reading that paragraph sometimes tears me up because I just KNOW it's going to come true!  Let's just hope it doesn't take me 16 hours!  :)

Sometimes when I look in the mirror I don't recognize the person staring back at me. "Who is this skinny dude?", I'll ask myself? Well, it's me! For the first time in my life I can honestly say I am proud to be ME!