From Broken Beds to Breaking Points

A Story of Transformation, Setbacks, and Starting Over

Two metal bed frames broke under my weight within two months. The first time, I rationalized it away: "Filipino beds aren't made for bigger people." The second time forced a harder conversation with myself. At 325 pounds, smoking two packs a day, and drowning in debt, I had reached a breaking point in the Philippines that would change the course of my life.

That was 2012. I was 26, newly married to my first wife, and living a life that looked nothing like I'd imagined when I left my job at AWS. The previous years had been a blur of self-justification: "I deserve luxury because I work hard." Living in a downtown Seattle high-rise, driving a new car, eating out for every meal. My financial mindset was simple: another payday would fix everything.

The Philippines seemed like an escape. Cigarettes cost less than a dollar a pack. Four-course meals ran under $40. But my health was deteriorating rapidly. I'd wake up from my own snores, feel morning lung pain, battle a chronic cough. Basic walking left me winded. Mental fog and depression became constant companions.

That second broken bed frame sparked more than just a need to lose weight. It forced me to evaluate everything: the financial problems, professional stagnation, my ex-wife's emotional state, my overall life satisfaction. I started with Tim Ferriss's 4-Hour Body, adapting the Slow-Carb diet to what was available locally: lots of chicken, beans, broccoli, imported frozen hamburgers. I established a strict daily routine of regular meal times, swimming, and walking.

By January, I'd lost 50 pounds. Switching to Paleo helped me drop another 30. But it wasn't a straight line up. A startup crisis forced an emergency departure from the Philippines, leaving behind a six-month apartment deposit. I used my last dollars to pay the country exit fee. (You can read more about this period of my life at mase.io/fatmanx.)

That crisis marked the beginning of a broader transformation. Over the next decade, I went from being over $60,000 in debt to making millions of dollars and becoming debt-free. My career took off: I led billion-dollar initiatives at Amazon, built platforms that powered Oracle's cloud transformation, and drove major revenue projects at Meta. Each role brought new challenges and rewards, but also new demands on my time and energy.

While my professional life soared, my personal life faced significant challenges. My first marriage, already strained, fell apart in January 2016. The divorce was finalized that summer. Then in January 2017, my ex-wife took her own life.

Instead of letting these challenges derail me, I threw myself into fitness and work. By mid-2017, I had achieved my peak physical condition. The habits were solid, the routine was working, and I felt in control of my health for the first time in my adult life. Early 2018 brought unexpected joy when I met Maggie. Our relationship flourished, and we married in January 2019.

By late 2019, we welcomed our first child. My fitness started to decline—a combination of sleep deprivation, poor diet, inconsistent exercise, and the general chaos of new parenthood. I had just started at Facebook, adding another layer of demands to an already full plate.

Each subsequent child—we now have three—brought another setback. In 2021, just before my son's birth, I took on a high-stress turnaround role as an executive at AudioEye. My son arrived 12 weeks premature, adding intense emotional and logistical challenges to an already demanding schedule. Our third child, born in 2023, also came early.

Let me be clear: I love my children fiercely and wouldn't change my decision to have them for anything. They are the best parts of my life. But the beautiful chaos of parenthood—the sleepless nights, the irregular schedules, the constant prioritization of their needs—contributed to my declining health. Understanding this reality will help me build systems that work while being a present, engaged father.

Last October, I hit another wall. Over my short few years at AudioEye, I had helped transform it from an unprofitable, sub-$45M market cap company into a ~$300M company with sustainable growth. We'd achieved the "Rule of 40" milestone. But my health was sliding backward, and I couldn't maintain the juggling act anymore.

I tried reducing to part-time work. My employer was incredibly accommodating, but after two months, it was clear that half measures wouldn't work. I don't do well with split focus—I can handle one big thing and some smaller tasks, but multiple major priorities leave everything suffering.

That realization led to a decision this January: health needed to become my full-time job. Not just for 90 days, but starting with 90 days of undivided attention. No more quarterly reports, strategic planning, or 6-pager reviews. Just focused, deliberate effort toward rebuilding the foundation I'd once created.

This time is different from 2012. Since my first transformation, I wrote a book called DRX (Deconstruct, Reconstruct, Execute - you can request access to the book here)—a systematic approach to personal change. While it works for any goal, I've never explicitly applied it specifically to fitness. Until now.

That's why I'm relaunching FatmanX. Not as casual Facebook updates, but as a focused platform for both accountability and education. This newsletter will document my 90-day transformation in real-time through daily updates and weekly deep dives into the DRX framework in action.

For at least these first 90 days, everything will be free. If you're here from my social circles or stumbled across this through other means, you're welcome to subscribe and follow along. I may develop premium content later, but for now, I'm focused on one thing: proving that systematic transformation is possible, even after multiple setbacks.

The first time, I transformed my life through desperation. This time, I'm choosing to thrive—to build a life where I can be healthy, energetic, and present for my family for decades to come. Join me as I share what I learn about rebuilding health while balancing life's demands—and help others do the same.