I remember the day I walked past a mirror. I had just returned from a gruelling day with divorce arbitrators, fighting for my very existence and the right to see my three little children. 

I looked at someone I hardly recognised. I was fat. - about 20kg overweight. My face was puffy, and my eyes were just dead. I didn't like what I saw in the mirror, and I wasn't sure if this guy in the reflection had the guts to turn this sinking ship around. There were little children to look after and stand tall for. 

I remember looking at myself with a mixture of pity and a little scorn. My waist was bulging over my belt, and my skin told the story of someone who had been making poor lifestyle choices for a long time. My head was swirling with the emotions of someone who had been hard done by. I needed the noise in my head to go away and, almost without thinking, put on my hardly used running shoes and hit the neighbourhood roads. What felt like a scene from chariots of fire (lengthening strides, framed by a look of determination and a hero smile) most probably painted a very different picture. - more like a guy in a fat-suit skin bouncing up and down as he tried to pass pensioners whose strides were longer than his, even whilst coaxing a Zimmerframe across the road. 

I managed to run around the block just once. My lungs were on fire, my legs felt like they had led in them and my feet hurt….- but you know what?! - The constant voices in my head had shut up for once. This was a little eureka moment for me. It seemed like I was able to tune out when I sought out some actual discomfort. 

Over the following months, whenever I started to overthink, to feel sorry for myself, I would put on my running shoes or head to the gym. I understood that motion created better emotions in me. I discovered that the cure for sadness, was to make myself physically tired, that the cure for lethargy was to make myself tired, and that the anger cure was to make myself tired. A good sweat was quickly becoming my cure-all for when life got complicated. 

My self-esteem began to creep up the scale in increments. My self-respect began to return along with my abdominal muscles… On the outside, it looked as though I was reversing years of making poor lifestyle choices. The really massive changes occurred from within. I was becoming tougher. I had formed the habit of putting myself into discomfort daily and felt that I could take on more challenging situations that life would throw at me. I was no longer so afraid. It had taken losing the family that meant the world to me to realize that I was responsible for my own life.

In an aircraft, they tell you to place the mask over your mouth before running to the assistance of others. I could only be a good father to my children if my head were right, and that is what I decided to do. 

My turnaround had been extreme. I lost 20kg (44lbs) in the space of 4 months. I started to show muscles and this made the opposite sex sit up and take notes. Self-loathing was replaced with self-pride. Indifference turned into motivation and a need to prove some people wrong. The ironic part of this story is that as my family dissolved, I found myself discovering more heroic virtues. When you make it through a tough time, this does not mean that you are clearing adversity from your path. I guess it means that you are a little better equipped to cope with adversity. We level up, not to escape hardship, but to be able to endure the next level of this game of life.