faith

The Day I Stopped Running Aimlessly

· 10 min read
faith fitness transformation DPE

I was 47 years old, on a phone call with my pharmacist, when I heard words that should have terrified me.

I’d told my doctor that things weren’t working. My numbers weren’t improving. I felt like garbage all the time. So he set up a review. The pharmacist called to go over everything—an honest talk about where I was headed.

The message was clear: with my weight, my A1C, my blood pressure, and my cholesterol, I was on track for a heart attack or stroke in the next three to four years.

At 401 pounds, taking 14 medications daily, with an A1C of 7.5 and pants that measured 58 inches—I was slowly killing myself. And I knew it. I just didn’t want to face it.

Because facing it would mean changing, and changing meant giving up the thing I was hiding in.

The Escape That Was Destroying Me

I had a gaming addiction.

Not “I play a lot of video games.” An addiction. If no one stopped me, I’d game for 18 hours straight. More if sleep didn’t get in the way. I cancelled plans. Skipped events. Manufactured excuses. Anything to get back to the screen.

I was spending over $400 a month on it—subscriptions, servers, in-game purchases. But that was just the visible part. I was hiding purchases and using lines of credit to fund the habit. Racking up debt we’re still paying off today.

Like a gambling addict. Like a junkie. I just happened to be hooked on pixels instead of cards or chemicals.

The money was a symptom. The real damage was what I was doing to my family.

My wife and daughter went places without me because Dad was “too sick” to come. They did life together while I sat in another room, contributing nothing but a paycheck. I was physically present in my own house but completely gone.

I started making excuses for church too. “Not feeling well.” “Too tired.” “Maybe next week.” The excuses stacked up until staying home felt normal and showing up felt impossible.

I was a Navy veteran. Supposed to be a leader. A protector. A provider. And I was failing at all of it—as a husband, as a father, as a man of faith. My body was falling apart. My marriage was straining. My relationship with my daughter was surface-level at best. And my walk with God? I’d wandered so far off the path I wasn’t sure I could find my way back.

I was running aimlessly. I didn’t have the language for it yet.

But God

In August 2025, my wife had enough.

She didn’t yell. She didn’t give me an ultimatum about the gaming—not yet. She just said we were going back to church. As a family. No more excuses.

I didn’t know it then, but that was God intervening and using my wife to drag me back from the edge.

She signed up for a women’s Bible study on Tuesday nights. I was all for it—my daughter would be serving in the children’s area, and I would have more game time. The Sunday before, we found out there was also a men’s study that night. Both of them turned to me. I would be going. No excuses.

I didn’t want to. I was out of practice with community. Out of practice with honesty. But I showed up. And something cracked open.

Being around other men fighting their own battles—guys trying to lead their families, follow Christ, and figure out how to be better—I realized I wasn’t alone. And maybe I didn’t have to keep losing.

On September 14th, 2025, I made the call. Pastor Will shared a simple question about Peter returning to fishing after betraying Jesus. Peter went back to what was comfortable instead of being with Jesus. Will asked something like, “What do you choose that’s comfortable over Jesus? What do you turn to when you’re down?”

I swear he was looking right at me.

On the way home, I confessed to my wife and daughter and vowed to give up gaming.

Deleted every game from every device. Put the PS5 up for sale. Cancelled over $400 in monthly subscriptions—gone. Told my wife, my daughter, and my mentor to hold me accountable. Replaced my Apple Watch with a traditional watch because I didn’t trust myself with another screen. Now it’s a Garmin, but for three months it was a classic G-Shock.

I was done negotiating with the thing that was stealing my life.

On October 3rd and 4th, we attended our first marriage conference together. The theme was “Fight the Good Fight.” We learned a lot from the speakers, and on the way home, my wife and I had a serious conversation. We confessed hidden sin and repented together.

That night I learned I was basically one big fight away from divorce. I was very close to losing my bride.

It broke me. Humbled me more than even the doctor’s threat of a heart attack and death. That night, we began to heal our relationship, and I started praying earnestly to have back what the locusts had taken away.

A Verse That Became My Operating System

One passage kept coming back to me. Wouldn’t let go.

1 Corinthians 9:26-27:

“So I run with purpose in every step. I am not just shadowboxing. I discipline my body like an athlete, training it to do what it should. Otherwise, I fear that after preaching to others I myself might be disqualified.” (NLT)

That was me. Running without purpose. Shadowboxing. Lots of motion, zero impact. Going through the motions while the real fight—for my health, my family, my faith—went unfought.

I needed something to hold myself to. A framework. Something simple enough to remember and sharp enough to cut through my own excuses.

I called it Disciplined Precision Execution. DPE.

But DPE needed a foundation. You can’t just “be disciplined” without knowing what you’re being disciplined about. So I built it on what I call the Biblical Life Code—ten principles covering six areas of stewardship: body, mind, time, resources, relationships, and readiness.

The six areas are everything God entrusts to us. The ten principles are how I commit to stewarding them. Things like: take care of my physical health, develop my mind, don’t waste time or money, set goals, excel at work, stay humble, control my emotions, put others first, and be ready to protect my family.

Every principle is grounded in Scripture. This isn’t self-help. It’s biblical stewardship with teeth.

DPE is how I execute that code. Three words that filter every decision:

  • Disciplined: “I discipline my body like an athlete, training it to do what it should.” No more negotiating. No more “just one more hour” or “I’ll start Monday.” Structure. Boundaries. Non-negotiables.

  • Precision: “I run with purpose in every step.” Every action serves a purpose. No wasted motion. No energy spent on things that don’t move the needle.

  • Execution: “I am not just shadowboxing.” Plans without follow-through are just dreams. Intentions without action are worthless. Land the punch.

DPE became my filter. When I’m faced with a choice, I ask: Is this disciplined? Is this precise? Am I actually executing or just thinking about it?

What Changed

The time I got back from gaming? I invested it.

Hired a personal trainer. Monday mornings with Tommy—in person, no excuses. Added Saturday sessions with Ciara over FaceTime in my garage. Structure. Accountability. Someone expecting me to show up.

Started walking. Then rucking. Then lifting. Went from not being able to climb stairs without losing my breath to actually building strength.

In December, right before Christmas break, my wife, my daughter, and I started training in Iaido together—Japanese sword arts. Tonight is my fifth lesson. It requires discipline, precision, and presence. No phones. No distractions. Just the three of us learning something challenging together.

We’re getting serious about finances now too. Paying down the debt I racked up. Building margin. DPE applies here too—stop running aimlessly with money.

The Numbers Tell Part of the Story

February 2025:

  • Weight: 401 lbs
  • A1C: 7.5
  • Pants: 58 inches
  • Shirts: 4X/5X
  • Daily medications: 14
  • Gaming: Addicted
  • Church: Making excuses
  • Family: Present but absent
  • Prognosis: Heart attack or stroke in 3-4 years

January 2026:

  • Weight: Under 300 lbs
  • A1C: 5.1 (non-diabetic range)
  • Pants: 42 inches
  • Shirts: 2X
  • Daily medications: 1 (Ozempic—my pharmacist says it’s for weight loss now, not diabetes management)
  • Gaming-free: 120+ days
  • Church: Serving on the security team
  • Bible study with co-workers
  • Family: Training together, doing life together
  • Current status: Lighter than when I left the Navy over 20 years ago

I lost over 100 pounds. My diabetes is in remission. I cut sixteen inches off my waist. I went from 14 pills a day to one.

But here’s what the numbers don’t capture.

I’m actually here now. Not just in the house—here. Present. Engaged. Fighting for something instead of hiding from everything.

The Verses That Anchored Each Season

My family picks a theme and scripture for each year. In 2025, we held onto two:

Hebrews 12:11: “No discipline is enjoyable while it is happening—it’s painful! But afterward there will be a peaceful harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way.” (NLT)

Galatians 6:9: “So let’s not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up.” (NLT)

The discipline was painful. Getting up early was painful. Saying no to the escape was painful. Sitting in men’s study and being honest about my failures was painful.

But the harvest came. It’s still coming.

For 2026, our family verse is:

2 Corinthians 4:8-9: “We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. We are hunted down, but never abandoned by God. We get knocked down, but we are not destroyed.” (NLT)

This year is about perseverance. The work isn’t done. I’ve got more weight to lose, more debt to pay off, more growth ahead. But I’m not shadowboxing anymore. I’m in the fight now. And I’m not fighting alone.

What DPE Really Means to Me

DPE isn’t a productivity system or a diet hack. It’s a commitment to stop wasting the life God gave me.

1 Corinthians 6:19-20 says: “Don’t you realize that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who lives in you and was given to you by God? You do not belong to yourself, for God bought you with a high price. So you must honor God with your body.” (NLT)

For years, I treated that temple like a dumpster. DPE is how I honor it now—one decision at a time.

Stewardship. My body, my time, my money, my family, my faith—none of it is really “mine.” I’m accountable for how I manage what I’ve been given.

Action over intention. I’d rather take imperfect action than sit in perfect paralysis.

Progress, not perfection. I’m not where I want to be. But I’m nowhere near where I was.

Proverbs 16:3: “Commit your actions to the Lord, and your plans will succeed.” (NLT)

That’s what I’m doing now. Committing the work. Trusting Him with the results.

If You See Yourself in This

Maybe you’re where I was. Maybe the doctor has said things. Maybe you’re hiding in something—gaming, scrolling, working, drinking, whatever—because facing real life feels too hard.

I’m not going to tell you it’s easy. It’s not. Hebrews 12:11 doesn’t lie about that.

But I will tell you this: the harvest is real. Change is possible. The man you could be—the husband, the father, the leader—is waiting for you to stop running aimlessly and start fighting with purpose.

You don’t have to keep shadowboxing.

Discipline your body. Be precise with your time. Execute the plan.

That’s DPE. That’s how I’m living now.

“So I run with purpose in every step. I am not just shadowboxing.” — 1 Corinthians 9:26 (NLT)

DPE