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Fat Man
Walking
By GARY WARTH -
NCTimes.com Staff Writer
Updated July 16,
2005
Steve Vaught never
imagined himself a celebrity, never thought anyone would take note of a guy
just trying to lose weight. But something has happened since that April day
when the 400-pound Valley Center man took his first steps on a cross-country
trek, an admittedly unusual weight-loss program that Vaught hopes will help him
focus and keep him from the temptation of the couch and
refrigerator.
People have discovered his Web site,
www.TheFatManWalking.com, and began telling their friends about it. Radio
stations began giving updates on his walk, with one even printing T-shirts for
fans to show their support. People donated money or supplies and offered to put
him up if he ever needed a room. A documentary crew started following him. So
many reporters called that he started declining interviews because of the
distraction.
"People have been
coming out of the woodwork," Vaught said. "People have driven up all the way
from San Diego just to have lunch with me."
Sitting under a tree near an
overpass near Route 66 in Ludlow a few weeks ago, Vaught stared off into the
distant desert and wondered out loud why so many are interested, why one man's
story had caught the imagination of so many.
But the mystery is not so
great. Vaught, a reflective man whose self-doubts sometimes weigh as heavily as
his determination, has become an inspiration not just for people trying to lose
weight, but for anyone trying to improve their lives overall, according to
messages admirers have left on his Web site.
"People have said they'll
quit smoking as long as I keep walking," Vaught said. "People have quit their
cable (TV) so they don't have an excuse not to go out."
An Everyman
equally comfortable talking about his days in the U.S. Marines as about his
love for his family, Vaught said his journey has inspired him to find Zen-like
observations in oranges, philosophical ponderings about life and contemplations
about the ripple effect one man can have on the world.
"If you live your
entire life and only affect one person positively, that's a good life," he said
in June, as he was beginning to comprehend the number of people following his
journey. "And when this is over, there's going to be hundreds of people. A vast
majority of people have been moved by this trip, which is something that's
completely unexpected and very moving to me. There's people who have changed
their lifestyles. People say they read it (his Web site) every day, and when I
walk, they go out and walk, so in a sense, they're doing it with
me."
First steps
Vaught grew up in a rough section of
Youngstown, Ohio, and he was just 3 when his father left home. When he was old
enough, Steve enlisted in the Marines to get away, he said, and served for
three years before being honorably discharged as a lance corporal in
1986.
Four years later, he was living in San Diego and driving up Balboa
Avenue when he approached a van stopped at an intersection. By the time he
realized the van had stopped for an elderly couple crossing the street, it was
too late for him to stop. Both pedestrians died in the collision.
Vaught
spent just 13 days in jail because of the accident, but the internal punishment
lasted for years.
"I absolutely bottomed out," he said. "A lot of people
don't understand this, but I don't remember being 26, 27 or 28. I remember
being 29 only because I was starting to freak out about turning
30."
Life got better about nine years ago, he said, when he fell in love
with a woman he originally knew as the 13-year-old sister of a friend when he
was 20. He married April Vaught 3 1/2 years ago, and the couple have two
children, Marc, 3, and Melanie, 8.
Despite the joy his new family
brought, Vaught said he still fought depression and battled personal
demons.
His outlook spiraled downward and his weight climbed higher.
Once the owner of a towing business and a consultant for others starting their
own businesses, Vaught began to find it hard to get new
clients.
Health in the balance
The Vaughts lived in North
Carolina for three years before returning to San Diego last year.
"He
thought he had friends here," April Vaught said. "When he went to look for a
regular job, it was just diminishing returns. The heavier he gets, the fewer
offers and fewer interviews he gets."
With his family livelihood and his
health in the balance, Vaught decided to take action.
"If it were just
about me, I don't think I'd go through this much trouble," he said. "I'm going
to be 40 this year, and I'm 400 pounds. How much time do I have left? Five or
six years? I'm going to die before my kids are out of high school, and that's
not fair."
"It's probably a lot of little things," April said about why
Steve decided to lose weight. "Our little boy turned 3, and that brought back
memories. That's when his father left him. That's always been a big issue for
him."
Vaught acknowledges the cross-country walk is a challenge for an
obese man, but doesn't see his goal as quixotic.
"I'm just a human being
like everybody else, but every human being is capable of doing amazing things,"
he said.
On the road
While shopping in Target earlier this
year, Vaught found himself out of breath and with back pains after walking the
length of the store. Frustrated and disappointed in himself, he vowed to turn
his life around and drop the weight he had slowly put on over the
years.
But Vaught feared that a regular diet-and-exercise routine
wouldn't work, that he would get bored and depressed and would slowly slip into
his old ways after six weeks.
Walking across the country had been a
lifetime dream for Vaught. But what would his wife think?
"I thought she
was just going to say, 'What are you, stupid?'" he said.
Instead, April
Vaught gave her blessing.
"I said, 'Well, hurry up and do it, then,'
because he hasn't done anything in ways of helping his health, and it's just
been getting progressively worse."
The couple sat up in bed that night
talking about it, and the next Monday Vaught quit his job at an auto shop and
began walking and buying supplies. He set up a Web site to help friends keep
track of his progress, never realizing the thousands of visitors it would
attract. His wife and children are staying with her mother, and April is
working part time at different jobs to keep funds coming in.
Vaught left
April 10, starting his journey in Oceanside, heading north on Coast Highway and
east on Highway 76. Unaccustomed to the weight of a 75-pound backpack, Vaught
lost his balance near College Avenue. He fell and landed on his knee, which
hurt for weeks.
Lessons about life
Vaught said he has lost
three toenails, developed a rash and came down with the stomach flu in
Victorville, where he had to recuperate in a motel for three days. The frame on
his backpack has snapped twice, kids have shot paintballs at him and he has
been threatened with arrest for walking on freeways.
He also has been
surprised at the generosity of people and has learned lessons about life that
only the solitude of the road can teach.
"I've really started to realize
that I've been pursuing the wrong things," he said. "You start to realize that
what's important is not what you build around you, it's the life around you,
the people around you. I've never been in a graveyard yet that's had somebody's
credit rating on their headstone."
In Fontana, a fruit vendor offered
him an orange when he was hungry, and Vaught still remembers the simple joy of
its juicy taste when he was famished.
"I started eating this orange, and
it was the best orange I've ever eaten in my life," he said. "I must have
looked like an idiot, because I'm walking up the street, giggling. That was the
best moment I had in years. Happiness comes from the simplest
things."
Vaught didn't bring any music to listen to or books to read
when he started the walk.
"When I first left, I thought, this is a
journey of discovery. I have to be by myself. But you find out pretty quick
you're boring." Vaught now has some books to keep him company.
In
Arizona
Two weeks ago, Vaught was in Kingman, Ariz., following 66E
to Flagstaff. A visit to a doctor's office revealed his weight was 358 pounds,
and he is averaging a loss of about 4 pounds a week.
In her Web journal,
April Vaught wrote that Steve had been outside cell service, but that he had
called her from pay phones. In one of the most challenging stretches of his
trip, she said, Vaught was in 102-degree heat, traveling long stretches between
towns and without cell service. She wrote that local law enforcement officers
had brought him water after she called them about him.
A Washington Post
reporter called her on July 6 to say he had met Vaught in the desert and found
him in good spirits. After that article appeared on July 8, the New York Times
magazine section ran a story on July 10. That got the attention of the "Today"
show, which sent a crew to April's house in Valley Center and another crew to
Williams, Ariz., to interview Steve in a hotel, where they provided him a room.
They were interviewed live on Tuesday.
All the media attention caused
the Web site TheFatManWalking.com to overload. Mirror sites have been set up
until the site can be put on its own server.
At press time Friday, Steve
had reached Ashfork, Ariz. After he gets to Flagstaff, he plans to head east to
New Mexico, then through north Texas and into Oklahoma.
Vaught said
earlier he has no idea when he'll make it to New York, but he is determined he
will get there some day.
"If I'm out here and I break my leg, I'll walk
on crutches," he said. "But I'm not going home."
See Steve Vaught's
progress at www.TheFatManWalking.com.
Contact staff writer Gary Warth at
gwarth@nctimes.com or (760)
740-5410. |
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