Bll Baron I - Fat Kid Got Fit: And So Can You!

Bill Baroni graduated from the University of Virginia School of Law and George Washington University, where he majored in history, graduating magna cum laude with special honors. He was elected to the New Jersey State Senate in 2007 after serving two consecutive terms in the State Assembly. As a state senator, he served on the Health, Human Services, and Senior Citizens Committee; the Joint Committee on the Public Schools; and the Judiciary Committee, among many others. He also served on several boards for educational and nonprofit groups, including the New Jersey Symphony Orchestra and Visitation Home, an organization that builds homes for New Jerseyans with developmental disabilities. He is an Aspen-Rodel Fellow. Currently, he serves as deputy executive director of the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey. He also teaches education law, election law, and professional responsibility law at Seton Hall University Law School, where he was named Adjunct Professor of the Year in 2004 and 2011.

Damon DiMarco is the author of the oral histories Tower Stories: An Oral History of 9/11 (with a foreword by Tom Kean, chairman of the Independent 9/11 Commission), and Heart of War: Soldiers Voices from Iraq. He has also written books on acting: The Actors Art & Craft with William Esper (featuring a foreword by Pulitzer Prizewinner David Mamet) and The Quotable Actor: 1001 Pearls of Wisdom from Actors Talking about Acting; and the collaborations Out of Bounds: Coming Out of Sexual Abuse, Addiction, and My Life of Lies in the NFL Closet with former offensive lineman Roy Simmons, and My Two Chinas: The Memoir of a Chinese Counterrevolutionary with Baiqiao Tang (featuring a foreword by His Holiness, the Dalai Lama). A professional actor as well as a writer, Damon has appeared in primetime and daytime television programs, commercials, independent films, regional theater, and trade shows. He has written for the stage, screen, and television, and taught acting on the faculties of Drew University in Madison, New Jersey, and the New York Film Academy in Manhattan.

There are so many people whove played a part in the making of this book and the journey behind it. Thanks must go to my agent, Martha Kaplan, and my editor, Janice Goldklang, for all the advice and counsel that have made this book what it is. And that thanks extends to all the people at Globe Pequot whose contributions might not be apparent but surely have played key roles.

To my family, whose love and support on this journey are endless: My dad and June. The Curtin Family. The Ohio Baroni Family. The Censoplanos.

I am deeply indebted to the entire staff of the Duke University Diet & Fitness Center for all their hard work, dedication, and support. Because of them, I am alive to write this book. And of course this includes Dr. Howard Eisenson and his predecessor as director of the DFC, Dr. Michael Hamilton.

To my Duke group: Jane Berman. Marilyn Graber. Susan Goldzman. Ben Rippe. Jill Bloch. Michael Negreanu. Sue Evans. Mish Sutter. Anthony Rauseo. We are a group that is on this journey togetherand I could not ask for a better, more loving group of people in my life.

My deepest love and thanks to all those who live this weight loss journey with me: my other families, the DiMarcos, the Linkimers, the Applelgets, and the Ballings. John and Cindy Holub. Michael and Gretchen DiMarco. Kristin Appelget. Sue Niederer. Todd Riffle. Matt Dowling.

To Andy and Mike: Thank you for making me realize how happy I can be by being exactly who I am.

Great thanks to the staff at the Hamilton YMCA and the Robert Wood Johnson University Hospital Center for Health & Wellness. They save lives every day.

Thanks to my staff and volunteers who worked so hard in my elections and my work in the Legislature.

And to the people of my hometown of Hamilton, New Jersey: Thanks for meeting me door to door and trusting me with your votes, hopes, and faith.

E verybody talks about That Moment. The one that changes your life forever. I guess this was mine.

In the summer of 1994, I was twenty-two years old and working as the driver and political aide-de-camp for Garabed Chuck Haytaian, speaker of the New Jersey State Assembly. Chuck was running for the United States Senate and hed planned an ambitious campaign, one for which he and I often would spend fourteen, sixteen, eighteen hours a day driving all over the state of New Jersey, from speech to speech and lunch to lunch, from campaign event to campaign event. Sometimes we covered ten venues a day. It was a crazy schedule but a very exciting time.

I was finishing my history degree from George Washington University and I planned on going to law school. But then this job with Chuck came up, and how could I turn it down? Id worked in politics since I was a teenager, and being a candidates driver is one of the greatest jobs you can get. You get to see and experience all the details of a campaign. You get to see the political process in action, good and bad, and I hoped that, if Chuck won the election, Id accompany him to Washington. But if he lost? Well, like I said. Law school was always waiting.

Running for office is a tough grind and we worked hard. Chuck and I were up and on the road at five oclock nearly every morning. I drove him back and forth to events in a souped-up Ford Econoline van we called (you guessed it) the Chuck Wagon. Chuck lived in Hackettstown, which is way up in the northwest part of the state in Warren County, right on the Delaware River. I knew the days were going to be long (they turned out to be practically endless) and I didnt want to lump a commute on top of all the other hours I was logging. So I rented a small, windowless basement apartment in a neighborhood a few miles away from Chucks house. It made my morning drive and evening commute much easier.

Each morning, Id climb in the van and drive to Chucks condo. Chuck would always be ready for breakfast so wed head to a local bakery called Harpers to order some donuts and coffee. Wed spend a while getting caught up on the news of the day before we left Hackettstown. The donuts at Harpers were pretty outstanding, so sometimes I ordered two. Okay, sometimes three. What can I say? I was hungry. Chuck and I were working hard and our appetites were up. We told ourselves we needed a good breakfast to get ready for the long day ahead.

When we finished eating, wed walk back out to the parking lot and climb back into the van. The Chuck Wagons shock absorbers would groan a little in protest. At that point, I weighed over three hundred pounds. The drivers seat of the Ford Econoline van suffered the penalty of all those donuts.

Political campaigns often revolve around food. On a typical day, Chuck and I would hit two or three breakfasts followed by two or three lunches. Each time Chuck took the podium to address the crowd, I would stand off in a corner somewhere with a cell phone jammed in my ear, coordinating the next stop along the trail. Meanwhile, people pressed plates of food into our hands wherever we went, and we couldnt say no. Civic associations, the Kiwanis, the local Chamber of Commercethey all went to great trouble to organize meetings where elected officials could meet their constituents. It would have been impolite not to eat the food theyd ordered. We appreciated their support, so we ate. Again. And again. And again. Sometimes six or seven times, and that was just during the day. Wed hit two or three dinners each evening on average, and each dinner served was a full course meal. After a long career in politics, Chuck knew how to moderate his eating. Me? Not so much.