Eat. Work. Win. Repeat: Food, Excess, and the Breaking Point
From fast money and faster impulses to choosing discipline over escape
Success came early for Jas, long before he had the maturity to understand what to do with it. When most kids were learning structure and patience, he was learning indulgence and speed. Money arrived before meaning. Applause arrived before identity. Freedom arrived before discipline.
“I love food. Food was my outlet. It was emotional support. When I start eating, I go all the way. I do not know how to be in between.”
Food was comfort. Food was applause. Food was celebration and protection. It was relief from pressure, silence during noise, reward for survival. And like all coping mechanisms, it did not ask questions — it simply consumed while it consoled.
“It was a crazy life. It was party life, gambling life, a lot of stuff. What comes in goes out.”
Most people have something they run to when life gets loud or lonely. Not everyone eats their feelings, but many drink them, spend them, chase them, smoke them, or bury them in distraction. Some escape in the noise. Some in validation. Some in chaos. The vice changes. The wound does not. Anything used to avoid feeling eventually becomes the thing we have to face.
By the time Jas left Montreal, the celebration had turned to consequence. The comfort had turned to weight. The escape had become visible.
“When I left Montreal, I was around three hundred and twenty pounds. In Vancouver, I was weighing over four hundred and fifty. My waist was sixty-eight inches.”
“I achieved a milestone and ordered a Porsche 911 Turbo. I got the car delivered, and I could not fit in it. I could not sit. I could not close the door.”
Some awakenings are loud. Others are still. A luxury car sitting in a driveway became a mirror. A celebration became a reality check. The body that once felt unstoppable felt immovable. The life he built could no longer carry the weight of the life he lived.
“That, the Porsche, and Facebook. Those made me change my life.”
Transformation did not begin in the gym. It began on a treadmill in silence. It began in discomfort. It began in the honesty that only discipline can demand.
“Day one, I got on the treadmill. After day fourteen, I was obsessed.”
He ate boiled chicken. He drank distilled water. He moved when it hurt. He showed up when it was not glamorous. He replaced indulgence with intention and emotion with effort.
He did not simply lose hundreds of pounds. He lost the version of himself who needed comfort instead of clarity. He lost the identity that survived through food instead of strength. He shed weight, but what he really shed was escape.
This story is not about food. It is about coping. It is about the moment you stop using something to avoid your life and start building a life that does not require escape. It is about realizing that comfort can become a cage and discipline can become a door.
Everyone carries something they run to. The breakthrough comes when you stop feeding what numbs you and start strengthening what builds you.
Jas did not choose perfection. He chose responsibility. He chose growth over comfort, progress over pain relief, purpose over pleasure. He chose to live his life instead of hiding from it.
Eat. Work. Win. Repeat.
Not in excess, in intention.
The life you want begins the moment you stop soothing your emotions and start shaping your identity. You do not change by punishing who you were. You change by deciding who you will never be again.
