If you're looking for expert advice on how to lose weight or get healthy, read no further. If you're interested in exploring the trials and tribulations of an average fat guy trying to lose weight, please continue.

Throughout my childhood, I was a picky eater and a scrawny kid bursting with energy. They didn't have the term ADHD back then, but I'm sure that if I were a child today, somebody would suggest pumping me full of Ritalin.

As I grew into my teen years, I developed a taste for just about everything edible under the sun, except for liver. I filled out, but was never overweight. When I hit my early 20s, things began to change, and by the age of 25, I weighed 220 pounds. At 5-feet, 9-inches tall, I was at least 50 pounds overweight.

I have fluctuated slightly up and down since then, but never went much higher than about 225. And then, about a year ago, I quickly mushroomed to 256 pounds in about three months. I had crossed the line from "a few extra pounds" to "didn't I meet you in the buffet line?"

About nine months ago -- at the height of my girth -- I was diagnosed as a Type 2 diabetic. My doctor said he wanted me to try to control my diabetes through diet and exercise, rather than by taking medication.

Feeling dutifully inspired to beat the disease, I started off strong. I limited my sugars and starches and walked at least a mile a day, and over the next few months I dropped about ten pounds, and was feeling somewhat better. My sugar levels were good.

I slowly regressed, however, into the sedentary lifestyle I had become accustomed to: Hours of television punctuated by sticky bowls of ice cream slathered in hot fudge and spattered with peanuts.

Denial had set in, and I started thinking my health problems would just go away on their own if I ignored them. After I moved to Shelbyville at the beginning of May, it got worse. I completely stopped walking, began bingeing on sweets, and ate fast food daily for a month.

And then one day about two weeks ago I had a minor meltdown.

I felt completely fatigued and I couldn't think straight. I left work early, went home and checked my blood sugar, which was at 265. That was the highest reading I'd ever had. It shouldn't be over 150, and I feel best when it's between 100 and 120.

I slept for about 14 hours, and when I got up, I decided I needed to get back on my health program.

I joined the recreation center and resolved again to stick to my plan, but when it came down to it, I just couldn't get myself going. That is, until Sunday, when I finally made a decision to get up off my duff and do something about my problem.

I decided that I wasn't going to take drastic measures, but that I was going to do a few things, a day at a time, to get better.

I also decided to approach the problem on a spiritual level, in addition to approaching it on the mental and physical levels. I asked God to help me get going. Once I got going, it was like priming a well. The more energy I expended, the more it seemed I had at my disposal, and I discovered that exercise must be one of life's little paradoxes.

So, first of all, I plan to pray to God each day for the strength to get me moving. Once I get that nudge from above, I believe my body will take over.

Mentally, I plan to read some books, say some affirmations, set some goals, record my progress, and write this column every week, as a form of accountability.

Physically, I plan to cut out all refined sugar and white starches, allowing myself only one small dessert a week as a treat, if I feel like it. Other than that, I am going to eat sensibly and learn to limit my portions.

I plan to stretch for ten minutes and walk a mile every morning before I get ready for work. At least three times per week, I plan to work out on the machines for an hour. And at least four times per week, I plan to walk an additional one to three miles or more at night.

As I write this, I weigh 244 pounds, according to the circa 1970 bathroom scale I'm using. I hope I will achieve some success.

I also hope that at least one person will read this column and decide that they, too, are willing to do something about their health, with a little help from above.

--John Philleo is editor of the Times-Gazette. He can be reached at 684-1200 or editor@t-g.com.