Sometimes things happen in our lives that we don't expect, and they push us to solutions we could never imagine.

For most of the last 40 years, I have had to battle my weight. Until I was 21, I never had any problem. I could eat whatever I wanted and never gain a pound. Part of it was probably my metabolism, but the biggest reason was just that I spent a lot of time in physical activity -- basketball, football, etc. Just before my 21st birthday, though, I realized that I had gone from my normal weight of about 175 pounds to almost 190.

It was the first time I had ever felt heavy, and I took the weight off over the next couple of months by playing basketball two or three hours every afternoon instead of going to classes.

Good move for my health, stupid move overall.

Once I wasn't in school, I got a job -- a sedentary job -- working in a bank. Within a year I weighed 200 pounds and the struggle had begun.

The irony of it is, as much time as I spent back then trying to get under 200 -- and succeeding in 1985, 1989 and 1992 -- now it will take a major effort to get anywhere close to that. A few months ago, I weighed 280 pounds, which is way too much when you're 60 years old and are only about 5-foot-10.

It's really a terrible place to be, because let's face it. People who are as much overweight as I am generally don't live to be that old. I have high blood pressure, I'm at serious risk for diabetes and I'm putting a tremendous strain on my heart, lungs and legs. I also have a very serious case of sleep apnea. I have gotten down to 270, but I really don't seem to be able to do what I've done before -- get serious about diet and exercise for 4-6 months.

The irony is that my eating problem has always been the classic one. I didn't eat to fill a hole in my stomach; I ate to fill a hole in my heart because I wasn't happy with myself as a person. Well, the last few weeks I have actually been feeling pretty good about myself. Except for the weight, of course.