I had hit a milestone in business, and I rewarded myself with a Porsche 911 Turbo. When the car was delivered, I could not fit in it. I could not sit in the seat. I could not close the door.
That was the car I had worked for. It was sitting right there, and my body would not let me use it. I weighed more than 450 pounds.
I have told pieces of this story before, and it was written up here in Eat. Work. Win. Repeat. This is the whole arc in my own words: how I got there, what I did about it and where I am now.
How I Got There
Money came to me young. I was building websites as a kid in Montreal, and by my late teens I had made more than a million dollars. I had the income of an adult long before I had the habits of one.
Food became my outlet. It was emotional support. It was how I celebrated and how I dealt with pressure. I have never been good at moderation with food. When I start eating, I go all the way. I do not know how to be in between.
The rest of my life ran the same way. It was party life and gambling life, a lot of everything. What came in went out, and that included what I put into my body.
When I left Montreal, I was around 320 pounds. In Vancouver, I passed 450. My waist was 68 inches. I was still working hard and still making money, so it was easy to tell myself that the business was the scoreboard and the rest could wait.
The Porsche and Facebook
The Porsche ended that story. A car is supposed to be a reward. Mine became a mirror. Everything I had built was in the driveway, and I was too big to get behind the wheel.
It was not the only push. When I think back on what made me change my life, it comes down to two things together: the Porsche, and Facebook.
Facebook had just started connecting everyone, and I was finding people from high school again. One of them was a girl I had liked back then, and all I could think about was the moment she would see what I looked like now. I did not want that. It lit a fire under me.
A car I could not fit into and a girl I did not want to see me. Together, they made the decision for me.
I want to be honest about how big that decision was. It covered more than food. The way I had been living was finished.
The First Three Months
I started around 2008 and 2009. Day one, I got on the treadmill. It was uncomfortable and it was quiet. By day 14, I was obsessed.
I ate like a bodybuilder, and I was strict about it. Boiled chicken. Steamed broccoli. No sauces. No sugar. I drank distilled water. There was nothing exciting about any of it, and that was the point. I took away the thing I used for comfort and replaced it with a routine I did not negotiate with.
In the first three months, I lost 88 pounds.
You may have seen a version of this in the news. In 2025, some outlets reported that I lost 40 kilograms in three months. That is the same first loss I am describing here, not a second one.
This is my experience, not medical advice. What worked for me at more than 450 pounds was extreme, and anyone starting their own change should do it with a doctor, not by copying my plate.
More Than 250 Pounds
The first three months gave me proof. After that, the work was about keeping going once the early results slowed down. In total, I lost more than 250 pounds.
The number is the part people ask about. The bigger change was in how I handled my own appetites. For years, food had been how I avoided feeling things. Once that was gone, I had to deal with what was underneath it, and I wrote more about that process in Killing Your Old Self. Losing the weight meant letting go of the version of me who needed that comfort.
I still love food. I have not pretended otherwise, and I do not think I ever will. What changed is the structure around it. Today I have a private chef, and I eat a balanced plan set by my nutritionist. It is nothing like the boiled chicken years. It is a plan I can live with for the long run.
I train six days a week, and I train like an athlete. That habit started on a treadmill on day one.
What Rebuilding Still Looks Like
I would like to say I have every part of my health figured out. I do not. Sleep is my struggle. My mind does not stop. I am always thinking of ideas and always working, and I know sleep matters more than almost anything else. That is the piece I am still working on.
That is also the honest shape of a transformation. You do not finish it and put it on a shelf. The man who could not close the door of his own car is not the man writing this, but I remember him clearly, and I remember what it took to leave him behind.
If you want the rest of my story, from the early businesses to what I run today, it is on my About page. The part I care most about is in this one: I started from more than 450 pounds, and I rebuilt my life from there.
