On a Treadmill and a Prayer: 799 Pound Teen Drops to 230

On a recent morning, Justin Willoughby grabbed onto the side rails of an elliptical machine and felt dizzy. He got down and walked to the men's room of the YMCA and prayed, pushing back his sweaty brown hair and asked God to help him finish the workout.

Just a few years ago, Justin, 23, did not have a prayer that could have helped him imagine finishing a strenuous hour-long workout, much less walk 50 feet. When he was 16, Justin weighed 799 pounds and could not even get out of bed. For 18 months, Justin had not left the trailer home in Bradford, Pa., he shared with his mother, father and autistic older brother. The weight of his chest was crushing his lungs, and he needed oxygen to breathe. "I'm surprised," says Justin, "that I'm still living."

In August of 2003, Justin's doctor ordered him to go to a hospital in Pittsburgh for help. Unable to walk, it took 15 firefighters from several towns to carry Justin from his bed to a special ambulance that took him to the hospital.

Once there, lying in his hospital bed with a built-in scale, Justin learned he was a pound shy of 800. "I was overwhelmed. I was like, 'What?'" Justin says. "And I started bawling.'" Doctors told him he could be dead in a year. "It didn't feel like life would continue," he says. "I wasn't sure if I would take my next breath."

Not particularly religious — but desperate — Justin prayed. "I said, 'Jesus, if you are real, help me,'" he recalls.EARLY YEARSSince he was a little boy, Justin was fat. By fourth grade he weighed 220 pounds. "The nurse told me, 'You're bigger than most kids. That's not healthy,'" Justin says.

Kids called him lardo. Elephant. Fatty. As Justin's weight continued to balloon, people stared at him during shopping trips to the mall. By high school, he developed panic attacks and didn't want to leave his house. "As I got more depressed I'd eat more," he says. Justin's parents, Ron and Diane, couldn't stop him. Says Ron: "He was a sneaky eater."

Justin ate about 6,000 calories a day. Breakfast was a bagel or roll slathered with peanut butter, jelly and butter, four eggs, and five sausage links. Bored by mid morning, he usually made two toasted cheese sandwiches on white bread. Throughout the day Justin continued to eat: bologna, hot dogs, cereal, ice cream, and potato chips. "I was always full," he says.

During 10th grade, Justin stopped going to school due to his panic attacks, and was home schooled. "I didn't care what I looked like," Justin says. "I felt like I had no hope; like I was going to die.

FIRST STEPS

When Justin was discharged from the Pittsburgh hospital after a week's stay, a physical therapist began working with him. "I saw a 16-year-old boy trapped in his body," recalls Melody Pollock. "He knew it was a matter of life and death to change."

At first, Justin's parents didn't want to change. His mother and brother were each at least 100 pounds overweight, and they liked their white bread and potato chips. "I said to them, 'If I'm on the diet, everyone is on the diet," Justin recalled. "They said, 'You do it, we won't' and I said, 'If you don't do it, it's not fair. I'll just die then."

Justin's desperation had an effect. His mom bought turkey burgers, whole-wheat rolls, low-fat dressings, boiled skinless chicken, fat-free popcorn and whole-wheat spaghetti. Justin ate between 1300 and 1500 calories daily, and he began to move. "On my first visit, he could take a few steps between his bedroom and living room and he was on oxygen," recalls Pollock. "It was a labored waddle, and when he reached the loveseat 15 feet away, he was out of breath."

It took Justin a month to walk a mile — 66 round-trips from his bedroom to the living room. "Every time I'd get up, I'd take an extra step," Justin said, "and imagine God was in front of me, leading me."

Within two-and-a-half years, and without the help of weight loss surgery — "The doctors told me I was too fat [for the procedure]," Justin says — he had lost 325 pounds. Despite the tremendous weight loss, Justin continued to draw stares. At a local Walmart to walk 10,000 steps around the mega store, "people stared at me," he says. "I was sweaty and my legs ached." When Justin's face turned pale, his mother, standing nearby, told him to take it easy. "I told her: 'Nope, I want to do this,'" Justin says. "I was telling myself I can do this with the strength of God. And if I don't do this, it's death." In 2007, Dr. Barry DiBernardo, a plastic surgeon in New Jersey, heard about Justin and donated his services to remove pounds of excess skin that hung from his arms, legs, chest, and stomach. Mountainside Hospital in Montclair, N.J. donated its operating room and hospital bed. During three different surgeries over three years, DiBernardo trimmed 50 pounds of skin. "The scars from surgery don't bother me," Justin says. "They're like battle scars; kind of like a tattoo."

So what is his secret? "It's the whole faith thing," he says. "There were days I wanted to throw in the towel. I asked God to help. There are days I want to eat. Constantly."

But he has had his setbacks. By the fall of 2008, Justin had lost 500 pounds and eased up on his diet. "I felt so much accomplishment," Justin says. "But, I was tired of eating healthy." Over the next three months, Justin gained back 30 pounds.

However, the slide didn't last long. In early 2009, Justin joined his YMCA's competitive version of The Biggest Loser. "He looked back at what he used to be, seeing how far he was from what he used to be," Tonya said, "and it put him in a position to never go back."

For three months, Justin worked out two hours every day except Sunday, using the elliptical and lifting weights. He shed 50 pounds and won the contest. By May, 2009, Justin began dating his longtime friend, Tonya Schuppenhauer, marrying her this past January. "I didn't expect her to be my wife," says Justin. "It's an amazing feeling."

Justin and Tonya exercise together at the YMCA, where he works 38 hours a week. An active member of his church, Justin also plays in a Christian hip-hop group aptly called Panic Attack.

One of the tricks Justin learned through this incredible journey is that he needs indulgence. Once a week, he splurges, eating whatever he wants, usually an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet. "If I don't have a day off," he said, "I go crazy and will splurge throughout the week." But his typical daily menu is filled with lean proteins (lots of egg whites and chicken breasts with hot sauce), 35-calorie wheat toast and fresh fruit.

It has been hundreds of days of this typical menu, and Justin expects many thousands more. "I look ahead," he says. "I say 'Every calorie counts.' And I can't do it by myself. God is helping me."

Photos courtesy of Justin Willoughby.