Part 1: Dr. Dai, what happened to you?

I get asked this question a lot. In fact, every day in my busy family practice, I’m asked this at least 10–15 times. I’ve spent so much time trying to explain what led to my health transformation that it’s starting to disrupt my normal workflow—which is what ultimately motivated me to start this blog. My hope is that I can direct people here so I can spend more time focusing on patient care—and perhaps even inspire others to make changes of their own.

This is the first post in a multi-part blog series documenting my health and wellness journey.

First, a disclaimer: this series is not intended to provide medical advice. It is simply a personal account of my own experience and what I’ve learned along the way. Before starting your own health transformation, you should consult your physician.

In Part 1, I’ll answer—at a high level—the question I’ve been asked so often over the past two years: “Dr. Dai, what happened to you?” or “Are you Dr. Dai?” or even, “Dr. Dai, are you alright?”

Yes, I’ve lost a significant amount of weight—27 kg (60 pounds), most of it over the course of a year. I also look noticeably leaner, more muscular, and more vascular compared to my old self. Sometimes I can tell people are scanning me from head to toe but are hesitant to ask. Others seem perplexed, confused, or even concerned.

No, I’m not sick. In fact, I’m in the best shape and health of my life. Here’s what happened.

During the COVID-19 pandemic, I really let myself go. I typically weighed around 70 kg (154 pounds), but by the end of the lockdowns, I had reached a peak of 84.6 kg (186 pounds). Not to make excuses, but it was one of the most stressful periods of my life. My wife and I homeschooled our two daughters for nearly two years. I was practicing family medicine at 1.5 FTE. I was serving on the board of a non-profit organization. I co-owned and co-managed a large family practice group. I was also dealing with personal challenges—and in the midst of all that, our third child was born.

The stress caught up to me. I stopped exercising and turned to food for comfort and stress relief.

In April 2024, I signed up for the Vancouver Sun Run, a large local 10 km race in Vancouver, BC. I had to stop running after less than 500 meters. I was huffing and puffing, my knees were in pain, and I ultimately limped to the finish line in 1 hour and 45 minutes. I was devastated.

Pre-pandemic, my personal best was 1:04:37—set after making a promise to my mother-in-law, who is now in a better place, that I would stay healthy for our family (more on this in later parts). After that agonizing “run,” I felt like I had let everyone down—I had let her down.

To make matters worse, shortly after the Sun Run, I gave a speech at a “Walk with your Doc” event, encouraging patients to stay active. I felt like a fraud—inauthentic and pretentious—because I was overweight, unfit, and not living the message I was promoting. I wasn’t setting a good example for my patients.

After that speech, I decided to put my words into action.

I started walking every day—beginning with 3,000 steps and increasing my step count by 1% each day. I paid closer attention to my nutrition and prioritized weight training to maintain muscle during the weight loss process. After one year, I reached 64 kg (141 pounds). At 37 years old, I had visible six-pack abs for the first time in my life. And no, I did not use Ozempic or other medications, just consistency.

In April 2025, I returned to the Vancouver Sun Run. This time, I trained for five weeks with a lighter, stronger body. It was still a tough training block—I struggled to run even 3 km at the start—but I persevered.

On race day, I achieved a new personal best: 50 minutes and 25 seconds. I was in tears during the final kilometer, flooded with memories of everything I had gone through over the past year with every step.

After the 2025 Sun Run, I gave the same speech again at the “Walk with your Doc” event—but this time, it felt different. I was finally walking the talk.

Here’s an article written about the event:
https://www.doctorsofbc.ca/physician-health/2025/leading-example-doctor-inspired-make-big-health-changes-after-walk-your-doc

Since then, patients, family, and friends have witnessed my transformation—and some have even started their own journeys. I have friends signing up for races for the first time. I have patients who have reached healthier weights and even reversed their diabetes after being inspired by my story.

Empowering others and seeing their lives improve has become more rewarding than my own achievements. I no longer feel like I’m doing this just for myself—I’m doing it for the people around me. I feel a sense of responsibility and purpose. This has become my north star.

To quote Eliud Kipchoge: “No human is limited.” After my first year of transformation, I truly felt that sense of empowerment.

That realization led me to a new experiment: how much can a person improve their running fitness in one year, starting from a minimal athletic background in mid-life?

With that question in mind, I committed to marathon training beginning May 4, 2025—and the rest is history.

It’s probably enough to stop here, as this post has already done a good job answering the question in the title. But if you’d like to learn more about the nitty-gritty details, feel free to keep reading the remainder of the series.

I welcome feedback and comments, and I’d love to hear about your own personal journeys as well.

In Part 2 of this series, I’ll talk about my athletic background (or lack thereof) to show that if I could do it, you can too.