There are times in life when one's heart cannot be adequately expressed with mere words. I confess that this, my five-year anniversary of a new life, is one of those times. It was five years ago this week that I had to step up and straddle two medical quality scales to discover the monumental challenge that lay ahead. Five years ago, my very existence was turned around in a completely new direction.

It was 7:30 a.m. on Sunday, April 1, 2001. April 1. April Fools' Day. My personal day of infamy. I was feeling like a fool for allowing myself to get to a point of super-morbid obesity and poor health. At the same time, I knew that I would be a bigger fool still not to pull the trigger, take a huge leap of faith and embark on the ultimate weight loss adventure.

While people play pranks on each other on this day, it was about to take on much deeper significance to me. It has become my new personal holiday of remembrance and reflection. The fool's Thanksgiving Day. The day I began a new life. It was on this day I left behind a very rewarding and productive yet unhealthy lifestyle and put my personal integrity and character on the line.

You see, I was living a life of profound hypocrisy in my personal health and public medical career. There was a major disconnect between my words and my actions. Over time, my weight had crept up in such a way that I lacked true insight into the magnitude of the problem.

I knew I was large, but since the scale at home peaked out at 350 pounds, I assumed I weighed approximately that much. The only way I could actually weigh myself was to place two scales side by side, put one foot on each, hold my breath, and add the two numbers together. I was so shocked at my calculations that I had to get on and off the scales several times to be sure it was accurate -- 467 pounds!

You lose perspective when facing dilemmas of that magnitude. We all experience it. Justify that habit you cannot break. Don't take responsibility for your unhealthy or even destructive actions toward yourself or others. Rationalize the error of your ways till you find yourself continuing to do it and perpetually struggling as the sense gnaws at you that you need to change.

I clearly had fallen victim to that pattern of thinking. I had lost sight of how out of hand things had gotten. A size 60 waist with a very limited wardrobe. A medical physician serving the local indigent population full time and a political leader serving as chairman of the board of Palomar Pomerado Health who was forced to dress very informally. Unable to fit into an airplane seat. Driving an oversized car out of necessity. Always hoping for the aisle seat at a game, movie or play. Often ignored as unattractive and undesirable. Such were the thoughts and realities of my life as a huge 467-pound, quarter-ton man. They called me "Dr. Nick; the big man with the huge heart."

You may already be familiar with what happened over the next year. Through very aggressive dieting and daily exercise I lost 270 pounds. Without having any gastric surgery or taking any medications, I went from 467 pounds on April Fools' Day 2001 to a low of 197 pounds the next April of 2002. The ideal body weight of two adult 5-foot-4-inch women had been shed from my body while I burned up nearly a million calories of excessive stored energy in fat tissue.

I took a "radical sabbatical" and embarked on a major journey of personal transformation. I had come to a simple yet profound realization. I had to change the way I "see" before I could change the way I look.

I visited every state in America and every major league baseball park while attending 110 major league baseball games. During my journey I was blessed to be in the right place at the right time to save two lives. I arrived in the New York metropolitan area the night of Sept. 10, 2001, only to see the world change before my eyes the next morning. I got to visit hundreds of family members and friends that I had only loosely stayed in touch with over the last decade. I got to spend high-quality time with my dad, grandfather, pastor and select friends and colleagues while driving more than 38,000 miles in an RV that had not a single mechanical glitch. I was blessed with generous hospitality and encouragement from so many loved ones and friends.

I arrived home the day before Thanksgiving to taste my first bite of solid food and have it broadcast on television. I came back clueless as to what I would be doing only to be blessed with wonderful and rewarding part-time work serving indigent patients and our local community all over again.

Today, exercise and healthy eating are a major part of my life. I am enjoying the time that I have to focus on my personal fitness, and excited with the slow but steady improvement of my body's shape and composition. Whatever pleasure I lost from overeating has been replaced many times over by the wonderful blessings and opportunities that I have been granted as a result of my personal transformation.

I wrote a book, "My Big Fat Greek Diet," that chronicles my journey. As a result, doors have been opened for me to share my story across the country and around the world with a message of hope and inspiration. Change is possible. Even monumental change. And you don't need a scalpel or some magic potion to do it either.

The most significant development in my life over the last four years was my May 1, 2004, marriage to Despina Christpolous, a beautiful woman whose love has made me a better person. Because of an earlier bout with testicular cancer, it wasn't clear whether I could ever father children. On March 23, we celebrated the one-year birthday of our precious little Veronique Gloria. I have come to discover that it's not about losing the weight; it's about losing it and never finding it again. And while that is a lifelong process, I now see that staying in shape is a deliberate act of love for my wife, daughter and the rest of my loved ones. I don't want to deprive them of the opportunity to have me around as long as possible.

I still enjoy seeing patients occasionally while doing urgent care at the network of clinics where I used to serve as medical director, but I realized that my workaholic pace was a factor in my poor health. So, instead of returning to my prior schedule of up to 90 hours per week, I now work an average of 30-40 hours per week.

I have been very thankful to be again serving our local community through the grants department of Palomar Pomerado and as the appointed co-chair of San Diego County's Childhood Obesity Task Force. Many of my old patients and some of my friends still claim on occasion to miss the big, old jolly Dr. Nick. A few have jokingly accused me of being an impostor. The truth is, the impostor is now gone. My life is no longer a lie. I am finally able to say to those patients, "Do as I say and as I have done. I did it and so can you."

You can read more about Dr. Nick and contact him through his Web site at www.healthsteward.com

Have you overcome a health challenge? Started a fitness program? Kicked an addiction? Tell your story so that others may benefit. Drop us a line at YourHealth@nctimes.com.