From Weight Struggles to a Half Marathon

The moment you know 'It's time'.

[⇒ Watch Jason's  video interview here]

There’s a particular kind of heaviness that doesn’t just live in the body. 

It lives in the background of your days - in the way you move through a room, in the way you catch yourself avoiding photos, in the small negotiations you make in your own head.

You tell yourself it’s fine, you’ll deal with it later, life is busy, there are bigger things to worry about. And yet somewhere underneath all of that, you also know when something is quietly getting away from you.

That’s the part of Jason’s story that stayed with me.

Because when he talks about being overweight, he isn’t telling a dramatic “before and after” tale. He’s describing something many people recognise: the cycle of trying, doing well, slipping, and then watching the old habits return almost without permission.

Jason had tried different approaches over the years - the kind that work for a while, especially when motivation is high - but like so many of us, he’d eventually find himself back where he started. Not because he didn’t care. Not because he didn’t know what to do. But because life has a way of pulling you back towards what’s familiar, especially when emotions are running the show.

In 2020, during lockdown, something clicked. It wasn’t a miracle. It wasn’t a sudden transformation. It was more like readiness - that quiet internal yes that arrives when you’ve had enough of feeling the way you feel.

Jason and his wife started making changes together: more walking, more awareness, and weekly weigh-ins they shared publicly for accountability. It sounds simple, but simplicity is often what works when you’re tired of complicated plans and grand promises. That year, Jason lost 50 pounds and reached his goal just before Christmas.

But what happened next is the part he tells with real honesty, and it’s where so many people nod along.

Once the goal was reached, there was no “after”. No next focus. Then Christmas plans were disrupted, restrictions returned, local flooding hit, and the world felt heavy again. The walks reduced. The routine slipped. And gradually - not overnight, not in some obvious dramatic way - the weight began to return.

Jason describes it in a way that feels painfully familiar: sometimes you’re not even consciously choosing it. You’re just… doing it. A little more comfort eating here. A little less movement there. The kind of small choices that don’t feel like a big deal until you look up and realise you’ve drifted.

And when you know it’s happening, there’s a very particular kind of inner chatter that can begin. That voice that says, it’s been a hard day, you deserve this, it’s only one time, you’ll start again on Monday.

It’s not that you believe it wholeheartedly. It’s that you’re tired, and part of you wants the quickest relief. For Jason, emotional eating was a big piece of it - not because he was weak, but because that’s what many human beings do when they’re stressed or overwhelmed. Food becomes comfort. Distraction. A way to soften the edges of something you don’t quite want to feel.

Then, in late 2023, a bereavement in the family brought things into sharper focus. Jason found himself thinking differently about time. Not in a morbid way - more in that quietly sobering way that makes you realise you don’t actually want to keep “meaning to” make a change. You want to be around. You want energy. You want to live long enough and well enough to see the people you love step into their own adult lives.

With his 40th birthday approaching, that thought became personal. So he decided to begin again - and he gave it a name: Lose 40 by 40.

This time, the difference wasn’t a stricter plan. It was the way he approached it.

Jason stopped calling it a diet, because that word came with the feeling of restriction and resentment. Instead, he treated it as a lifestyle shift - a way of living he could actually sustain. He didn’t ban foods. He didn’t declare himself “good” or “bad” based on what he ate. He built awareness.

A biscuit wasn’t forbidden, but it wasn’t mindless either. Three biscuits suddenly meant something when you understood what they added up to, and that alone changed the decision-making.

He also built accountability in a way that suited his personality. Every Friday he shared his weigh-ins publicly, and he began documenting his progress on YouTube too. Not polished, not perfect - just honest. Some weeks were easier than others. Some weeks required him to admit what had felt hard. But showing up like that kept him connected to his own commitment. It wasn’t just a private promise he could quietly step away from. It was real, visible, and shared.

And the weight came off.

By mid-May he’d hit his target - and here’s where his story takes a turn that feels like the deeper lesson.

He didn’t stop. He’d learned, from the first time, that reaching a goal can be the moment people drift, because there’s nothing left to aim for. Jason knew he needed the “what next” before the old habits had a chance to sneak back in.

Walking had become easier and faster, so he chose a new challenge: running. He began a couch-to-5K programme, a little uncertain because of past injuries, but he took it slowly and listened to his body. And then, in one of those lovely accidental alignments life sometimes gives you, he finished the programme just before his 40th birthday and decided to do his first Parkrun.

That first run mattered. Not because it was perfect, but because it was a moment of proof. A local runner paced him and encouraged him, and Jason finished in under 30 minutes - a time he’d once thought might be out of reach. It left him sore for days, but in the best possible way. The ache of effort. The ache that says, I did something I didn’t think I could do.

From there, the running started to become part of who he was. More Parkruns. A 10K. Another. And now, one year later, he’s trained for his first half marathon. The distance itself is impressive, but what’s even more striking is how Jason talks about it - not like someone who has “arrived,” but like someone who is still learning.

Running made him hungrier. It required him to adjust again. It asked him to be in relationship with his habits rather than declare them solved once and for all.

And then there’s the ripple effect at home.

His daughter watched him and decided she wanted to try running too. His son - not interested in sport at all - got curious as well. Suddenly, Jason wasn’t just changing his own life; he was showing his children what it looks like to commit to yourself without drama, without punishment, and without waiting until life is perfect.

When I asked Jason what he’d leave others with, he didn’t offer a slick motivational quote. He said something quieter and more honest: you have to be ready. Not “you should start.” Not “just do it.” Ready. That inner shift where something in you knows it’s time, and you stop negotiating with yourself about it.

When you reach that point, he says, embrace it, because that readiness is the real beginning.

PS.  Just after this interview, Jason did complete his first half-marathon in 2:26 and another 10k in June.  Congratulations Jason! 

You can follow Jason at:

https://jasonsjourney.fit/ 

YouTube:   https://www.youtube.com/@Jasonsjourneyfit

Instagram:  https://www.instagram.com/Jasonsjourneyfit

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