He Spent $150 a Day on Food and Couldn’t Walk From His Car to the Store Without Resting. Now He’s 200 Pounds Down

A man once trapped at 725 pounds is rewriting his story, one meal at a time.

Sal’s weight had become so extreme it nearly killed him—multiple times.

Now nearly 200 pounds lighter, he’s opened up about the shocking diet that brought him to death’s door.

In a raw and revealing experiment, fitness creator Will Tennyson attempted to eat Sal’s exact daily menu—a staggering 12,000 calories that painted a vivid picture of food addiction’s devastating grip.

The Breakfast That Started Everything

Sal’s day didn’t begin with food—it began with an hour-long scroll through delivery apps.

An hour looking. Yeah. Like, it wasn’t intentional. It was more so like indecisive. Everything looks so good and nothing look good at the same time.

By 11 a.m., breakfast finally arrived: four large pizzas—two chicken and waffle pizzas drizzled with spicy syrup, two four-cheese pizzas with cheese sauce bases.

And eight containers of ranch dressing.

Tennyson was stunned by the two-to-one ranch-to-pizza ratio, but Sal explained this wasn’t about hunger—it was about habit.

Around 11:00 my brain starts like oh what’s going to have for dinner today or for breakfast or for lunch or whatever. So, I start looking on Door Dash and seeing what’s there, and then I look for buy one get one free options and I start purchasing.

This first meal alone contained roughly 3,500 calories. Tennyson powered through, folding slices and dipping them in ranch just to keep eating—exactly as Sal once did.

Inside the Apartment Where Survival Replaced Living

While waiting for breakfast, Sal walked Tennyson through his former apartment—a place filled with painful memories.

His refrigerator had remained empty for an entire year. Everything came from delivery apps.

He showed a broken bathroom door he’d been too ashamed to get repaired after falling and breaking it off its hinges.

Then came the most haunting revelation.

I remember I would like more than one occasion would open this like window and the sliding door and like just peer offside and just think about like what if. There were times probably like the last 6 months I was here this window looked way better than the front door.

A hospital sat directly across from that window—the same one where Sal would spend five days fighting diabetic ketoacidosis.

Weighing In: 109 Pounds Gone

After breakfast, they headed to the gym for Sal’s daily weigh-in—the single most important ritual in his recovery.

526.2 pounds.

His lowest weight yet. Down 109 pounds from when he first appeared on Tennyson’s channel at 607 pounds, and 199 pounds from his peak of 725.

There’s some struggles like last few months. So like I wish it was sooner, but happy that it’s at least like going the right direction now.

Sal breaks his journey into 25-pound increments—never looking at the full 500 pounds he needs to lose.

Bench by bench. Step by step.

Lunch: 3,500 Calories vs. 700

Before training, Sal revealed his current pre-workout meal: ground venison, rice, mixed vegetables, and hot sauce.

Approximately 700 calories of balanced nutrition.

Tennyson’s lunch? Twenty-four wings in four different flavors, buttermilk biscuits, and nine containers of ranch.

I got excited picking up the new box and having a fresh new box in front of me. I know it’s like sustainable. It’s going to be like filling. I get more excited about the scale going down.

The contrast was jarring. While Tennyson struggled through fried chicken, Sal calmly enjoyed his measured meal—proof that sustainable beats extreme every time.

Understanding Food Addiction

Between bites, Sal opened up about what food addiction actually means.

Food addiction, I think, is the inability to control impulses related to and around food. If I see like a Popeyes sign, I’m going to be thinking about Popeyes probably for like another couple days after this.

But there’s progress. Those intrusive thoughts used to last months. Now they fade within days.

The daily weigh-in serves as his anchor—a non-negotiable reminder that tomorrow’s health matters more than today’s craving.

Sal aims for consistency over perfection: winning 90% of days while accepting that 10% will involve slips.

The Bench That Saved His Life

After their workout—10 minutes of cardio Sal couldn’t do just months ago, followed by intense chest and back training—they visited a significant landmark.

A simple bench outside a convenience store.

No matter what happened, I would walk here, rest for 5 minutes, and then I would go inside to go right there. I couldn’t make it. Like 0% chance I could make it from my car to the cash register to get chips to get to the table.

At 725 pounds, Sal needed to rest halfway through a parking lot just to buy snacks.

The shame was overwhelming—but once food was in his hands, he felt temporary euphoria.

The Poker Room: Where Isolation Felt Like Connection

Sal spent 30 hours per week in a local poker club. Sometimes 60.

He once won $20,000 in a day—and lost $18,000 another.

But gambling wasn’t really the point.

I realized it was like nine people sitting down and just shooting the shit for what could be 14 hours. Now I can be extroverted again. But they don’t care about me. They don’t ask me how are you doing, how’s your family. They don’t notice the subtleties of the weight gain.

Sal craved human interaction—but without genuine connection. He wanted to be around people who wouldn’t notice he was dying.

During those marathon sessions, he’d consume 10 bags of chips—mindlessly eating while playing hands, barely registering the food.

When his aunt passed away, he took the phone call at the table, hung up, and played the next hand without missing a beat.

I was really detached from everything and everyone because I was ashamed of who I was. I had gotten to the point where like I was almost immobile, but I didn’t care enough to like let them love me, let them care about me.

Meal Three: Indian Food at 2 A.M.

By late evening, Sal would order massive portions of Indian cuisine—his favorite.

Two rice dishes, one with goat curry, one butter chicken. Multiple naan breads.

This was the one meal that brought genuine joy—at least for the first 10 bites.

Most time it was just kind of like mindless eating. But the Indian food dishes are always like oh this is like actually good and this is what I want.

Tennyson found himself craving something fresh—vegetables, a salad, anything light. The relentless density of every meal was crushing.

Yet for Sal, if leftovers remained in the house, he’d wake at 4 a.m. and finish them.

The Final Meal: White Castle at 4 A.M.

Just when Tennyson thought he was done, Sal revealed one more meal.

Sixteen sliders from White Castle.

Ordered around 1 a.m. “just in case” the poker game ran late.

This final feeding added another 3,910 calories—not including ranch.

I hated myself at this point. I knew what I was doing was killing myself slowly meal by meal. I just didn’t want to live. This meal tasted horrible really. But I wanted to feel something and this made me feel despair. I felt the entire day apathy, like nothing at all. And finally when I got to this meal, I just felt like despair, which was some emotion that I could hold on to.

Feeling nothing was worse than feeling pain. Despair meant he was still alive—barely.

Tennyson could barely finish two sliders. Sal used to consume all 16 in 15 minutes, eating one at a time like a python.

The Daily Cost: $150 and a Slow Death

Sal spent approximately $150 per day on food delivery.

That’s $40,000 to $50,000 annually—money earned through poker, spent on meals designed to numb his pain.

The financial cost was significant, but the physical and emotional toll was immeasurable.

One Step Forward: Sal’s Message to Others

For anyone struggling with food addiction, Sal offers simple but powerful advice.

The most important thing is take one step whether it’s a nutritionist, a doctor, a gym, like take one step and don’t make it too many steps. If you make this thing too big, you’ll never get there. You have to do it small by small, step by step, bench by bench.

He breaks everything into 25-pound increments. Achievable milestones that build momentum without overwhelming.

The daily weigh-in keeps him accountable. His structured meal plan removes decision fatigue. Training gives him strength—both physical and mental.

Most importantly, he’s learned to have difficult conversations—something impossible when food was his only comfort.

From Shame to Strength

Sal has now been on his journey for nearly 16 months—his longest attempt ever.

Previous efforts maxed out at six months. This time, he’s built sustainable systems instead of relying on willpower alone.

He’s lost the equivalent of an entire adult human being.

The shame that once defined him is slowly transforming into quiet pride.

I appreciate it. I try to just show up. I mean, it’s not easy. I fail a lot. I mess up. I make mistakes. But like if I can win more days than I lose, that’s all I’m trying to do.

When looking back at his darkest days, Sal doesn’t feel anger—he feels sadness.

Sadness for a man so hurt he couldn’t let anyone care about him. Sadness for meals eaten alone in shame. Sadness for nights staring out windows, contemplating endings instead of beginnings.

The Beginning, Not the End

Sal’s story isn’t over—it’s just getting started.

At 526 pounds, he still has a long road ahead. But he’s walking it now, one bench at a time.

His goal this year is to reach 200 pounds lost. Based on his progress and commitment, there’s little doubt he’ll achieve it.

For anyone watching who feels trapped in their own version of Sal’s apartment—whether with food, substances, isolation, or despair—his message is clear.

Your life is worth fighting for.

Take one step. Just one. Then another.

It won’t be easy. It won’t be quick. But it will be worth it.

Don’t give up.