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By William “The Champ” Millender

Wow, the Fat March has begun. The second beginning for me. This one was not so hard though. To see myself on television, making the changes, virtually becoming someone new. Some of our marchers were worried how they would come across on TV. Especially on a show with a title called Fat March. The title did not bother me one bit though. I actually found it amusing. We were indeed a group of fat people and we were marching. It would turn out that how I came across on TV would be the least of my worries. Because for a 472 pound guy, who literally just got off the couch from in front of a computer screen, to start walking 5, 8, 10 etc; miles a day, is unfamiliar and very uncomfortable territory.

I personally struggled right off the bat. I walked into that thing thinking I was the man. I was The F***ing Champ. I was going to be right at the front and leading the pack, because after all, this was just walking. I got a reality check when about 10 minutes into it, my feet were burning, I was looking for a rest, and Shane, a guy that was 520 pounds was in front of me!! I couldn’t believe it. Big Will, The Champ was in the back of the pack, behind the biggest guy in the herd. It was honestly depressing. Not because of Shane, who is an amazing person, but because how could I be behind the biggest guy? It seemed unfathomable at the time. To make it worse, in the distance were these tiny little figures and they were about half the cast that I thought I was going to be skipping along with to that finish line. Instead, here were Lorrie and Steve, right next to me, having to just get me through the first mile, let alone five.

The next struggle began at the end. There was a bit of waiting and then finally we walking into our camp. I was kind of expecting the camping bit, but did not expect to have to set up our tents. I’d never been camping before nor did I ever really want to. It was raining on us and it was freezing cold. The first day of a huge storm. In Brooklyn, we just stay inside, under the covers, and hope the heat works that night. So after a four hour, five mile hike, I had to figure out how to set up a tent. My back and knees aching from my sciatica, my mind wrapping around what I had signed up for and the fact that already, I was not doing what I set out to accomplish.

Struggle three was when I had to ask everyone to help me set up. I could not bend. I could not move well at all. I did not know how to set up a tent and so I would’ve had nowhere to sleep if I didn’t set it up. I am the type of person that does not like to ask people for things unless I feel it’s necessary. I’ve got my mom around in case I need anything but anyone else, I feel almost bothersome asking for anything. I think Jami Lynn helped me as well as someone else, I don’t remember that well, but it got done. Dinner wasn’t so bad, we had Chicken, some Rice and some Vegetables. I think at that point we were happy to get any sort of sustenance.

The next day, that same struggle continued to be troublesome, because I then felt self insufficient. My sciatica was continuing to bother me and something as little as being able to put my socks and boots on, seemed like an insurmountable task and once again, someone had to come over and help. It was very emotional because I felt like such a loser. I woke up that morning not even able to sit up straight and the camping chairs that were provided for us, barely fit my fat ass to sit comfortably anywhere. It did not help my back that the only shower available were the public YMCA bathrooms that were pretty cold due to the vents next to the showers.

I struggled to finish those first three days with the help of Trainer Lorrie. She literally had to drag me through those first days. I really felt like I was finished. I had a little scrap book my girlfriend put together as my only source of encouragement outside of the trainers. It honestly kept me in the damn thing longer than those three days because I was done. And on that third day, after an emotional finish for me, Anthony being picked up by an ambulance and thankful that it was not me (and that he was okay), I took another cold shower and had an epiphany. I just knew I could not go home. I wanted to so badly, but I couldn’t bring myself to say “I’m quitting”. I couldn’t go home and face my girlfriend, who I had promised time after time that things were going to change and I would start losing weight, and never did. I never got that feeling of “wanting to go home me” vs. “I need to stay me” out of my head. It was constant. But “I need to stay me” always won.

As the walks progressed that stage, I began to have less of a struggle, but I still fought myself to get going every day. I was still finishing last and I was the slowest to start. It was a daily question of, would Will finish today? And though I did, it was tough being the one that was constantly in question.

The last struggle for that stage was the Shane decision, it was a tough one. Shane is a man of great pride, and was never, and I don’t know if he will ever, be the one to say “I can’t do this”. He wanted to be in this so bad that he was willing to risk harming himself to stay in it and solider on. It was not an easy decision, but I had a talk with him, and asked “Shane, please put your pride down for a second and tell us what you need to do. Can you walk?” To which he replied “The way I feel right now, I don’t think so”. His feet were swelled up really bad and you could audibly hear him in pain during sleep.

That day was emotional as well. I had gone in this thing, gung ho to vote off whomever, because it was just a game, and now it became a difficult thing because this wasn’t a cut throat competition. It was telling someone who totally believed in what we were doing, that they were no longer fit to compete with us. I think we all cried a little as he left because as Shea said “He was a quiet inspiration” because though he didn’t speak much, when he did speak, you always listened. He stayed with us the rest of the way.

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