Jeff Wicks

Before
113kg
After
83kg

Jeff Wicks Belly Off Success Story

There is a chasm between wanting something and needing something.
I needed to change.
For a bit of history, flashback to April 2015, I was tipping the scales at 113kg's after months of terrible eating and little to no exercise.
I wasn't a stranger to being in a gym or playing sport, but the rigours of long hours and the stress of changing jobs several times in a short space of time had taken its toll.
I am not one to make excuses, I was a glutton and no one else is to blame but me.
It's difficult to describe how much hate I had reserved for myself, with the heaps of self-loathing applied generously for letting myself get to that point.
I would feel anxious when people took photos of me, and dread having to face the point to which I had let myself slip.
My clothes were tight, my trousers often tore and I had come to the point where tying my shoelaces was an activity that rendered me breathless. I knew I had fucked up.
As conceited and vapid as it sounds, the way I looked had a profound effect on how I carried myself. My confidence was non-existent and being overweight had begun to define me.
There was a tipping point, where I had rallied that self-hatred, taken stock of what I was and what I needed to do.
I had been on assignment covering the humanitarian crisis in Nepal and a photographer had snapped a cursory picture of me during an interview. That was the last picture of myself I ever wanted to see.
The moment my feet touched down on South African soil, I moved from wanting to look good and feel better to needing it, and that was a switch in motivation that was everything.
Looking at myself today, I am almost 30kg's lighter and in a head space I never want to leave.
I had put off trying Crossfit for almost two months because I felt that I wasn't ready.
I cannot understate the fact that the decision to step into the box at Crossfit Shumba for the first time is one of the best, if not the best decision I have made in my entire life.
I will never forget the trepidation of the first day, and the baptism of fire that was Fran.
The burning in my legs was dwarfed by the threat of vomiting in front of probably the fittest group of people I had ever encountered.
In the space of an hour I was humbled, and I knew that if I could push myself to the brink like I had on that day, the results I wanted would come.

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