By: Jason Jenkins
As an 11lb 7oz baby, I enjoyed robust health and had a Bruce Lee physique until I was 10 years old. The demise of “Bruce Lee” was precipitated by a family curse, of sorts––an invitation to stay at my cousin’s house. It was two weeks of pure, unadulterated gluttony. I had access to all the “good” stuff I never got at home. There was a bottomless cooler stocked with soda, a bounty of Twinkies, Ho Ho’s, Ding Dongs, and even little cheese-stuffed wieners. I was in hog heaven. By the time I got home I was wearing an extra ten pounds of blubber. That extra weight stuck with me for the rest of my school years.
I served a mission in Colorado in ‘92 & ‘93 and was well fed by the loving members there. One fast Sunday, my companion and I had dinner with a family that egged us on, encouraging us to eat seconds, thirds, fourths–––then dessert! Gluttony once again reared its frightful mien, and I ate far too much. When it was time to go, I realized that, quite literally, I could not sit down on my bicycle. I was so stuffed, I could not bend over. I had to ride back to our apartment standing up. I was so uncomfortable that the rest of the day was a complete loss.
In 1999, at the age of 64, my dad suffered a heart attack and had a 5-way heart bypass. The doctor told him he would have another ten years. Watching him go through that sternum-splitting surgery––and painful recovery––I knew I wanted to avoid the same fate, if at all possible. I thought that if I could just exercise enough, I could stay in good shape, inside and out. My dad lived another 20 years, before suffering a major plaque eruption that he did not survive.
When I got married in 2001, I was still searching for the secret to becoming “addicted” to exercise so I could avoid gaining the “newlywed 30”––A fate that had befallen many fit and trim friends. As the years went by and our family grew, my time and energy seemed to shrink, while my waistline expanded, and it became harder and harder to maintain good health.
In 2011, my wife’s aunt suffered a heart attack. I felt at that time that I needed to go vegetarian. It was something that I had been thinking about and it just seemed to be the right time. My hope was to be a good example for her and to follow my own impressions of a healthier path. I ate a vegetarian diet for several years, but gradually lost motivation and started eating meat again.
In 2016 I found myself really struggling. With everything. I was serving as a bishop, working a full-time job, plus a side job, with a wife and five kids, ages 1-10. I even tried to go back to school during this time, but my energy, focus, and productivity hit rock bottom. Brain fog, fatigue, anxiety and overwhelm were daily companions. I was overweight, depressed, and worried about being able to keep my job.