I submit the following for what it's worth:
There's no secret to keeping weight down - sensible diet, regular exercise. For me, the hard part is tricking one's self into exercising regularly. I tell myself that I'll go to the gym, that I'll get dedicated. I'm even glad I'm there when I do go, but developing consistency just wouldn't happen for me, and I never found the rhythm that I needed to get me where I wanted.
Then I found Rugby.
Last September I joined a rugby club that practices and plays near my house. I had played a bit in High School, but never that much and I was never all that good. Truthfully, I didn't really have any particular love for the game. I just knew that if my a*s stayed glued to the couch for another winter, I would be entering heart attack city and feeling pouty about my weight some more.
So I walked on and said, "I want to play."
The head coach looked me up up and down, "Have you ever played before?"
"No. Not really. And I'm not in very good shape."
"But you want to play."
"Yup."
The first practice nearly killed me. I was sucking wind 10 minutes in and sucking fire for most of it. I figured they'd kick me off the team for sure. But, as it turns out, nobody ever actually gets kicked off of a 3rd division rugby team. Not for a lack of fitness, anyhow. They just keep you running, and show mad support.
My first game was worse than my first practice. I sucked hard for a good 60 mins, was mercifully swapped out and figured that I would be considered a failed experiment in 29 year old walk-ons. But, as soon as I caught my breath, the coach came and found me.
"Great game!"
"You've got to be kidding me! I had no clue where to be, I barely knew what I was doing I couldn't find position to save my life - I was a mess out there."
"Nah, it's your first time. That's bound to happen. We'll work on all that stuff. See you at training on Tuesday!"
And, verily, I found a reason to work out. Twice a week I had rugby practice, and Saturday was gameday. In between practices, I had every reason to hit the gym. Every lift, every run made me a better rugby player. I had a long way to go. I knew that as well as anyone. But I could see it happening! I could run faster and for a longer time. I could hit harder. As my fitness improved, so did my rugby. Suddenly, my size wasn't an embarrassment, but an asset! Nobody wants to try knocking a 260lb guy off the ball!
As the season went on, I got fitter. I was glad, too, but it wasn't nearly as important to me as it used to be. Saturday was important. Saturday mornings were why I hit the gym for that extra hour, why I ran that extra mile, why I skipped desert and made healthier eating choices all week. I knew that the more I could leave out there on Saturday morning, the better I'd feel.
Now, I'm a half decent 3rd division rugby prop. My coaches and teammates all tell me how far I've come and how glad they are to have me on the team, and that means way more to me than my weight (which is about the same, but far better packaged.)
My team lost last weekend in the semi-finals of our local league. I was forced to watch in agony from the sidelines, still lame on a sprained ankle from two weeks before. I recently got back on the bike and there are long runs in my future, all summer, so that I'm ready for fall. I don't regret the sprain any more than I regret any of the cuts and bruises and sore spots that I carry all week, and especially Sunday. It's part of the game... and the game has been very good to me.
My message is this: Don't make it about working out and dieting. Those things, in a vacuum, are boring and vapid, at least to me. Find something that occurs at regular intervals, and that takes exercise to do successfully. Then, the fitness will come as a pleasant side effect.
Good Luck to all.
