How Committed Am I?

• I am 1,000,000% committed
• I will work 25/8/366 …that’s right, 25 hours a day, eight days a week, 366 days a year (except for Leap Year, in which I will work 367 days!)
• I believe there is no “I” in “failure”
• I am so committed, I make a couple’s 50th wedding anniversary look like a first date
• I ripped the page with “quit” on it out of the dictionary (can somebody help me spell quintecential, quentisental, quentasential…grrrrrr)
• There’s an old saying: “An ounce of performance is worth pounds of promises.” Well, I’m going to deliver 10 gallons of performance, which is worth, like, 100 pounds of promises.
• I’m more committed than Lassie trying to bring help for little Timmy, who got his *ss stuck in the well
• I’m getting a tattoo that says “Desire is the key to motivation, but it's determination and commitment to an unrelenting pursuit of your goal - a commitment to excellence - that will enable you to attain the success you seek” on my ring finger.
• I am infinity times infinity plus infinity committed
• Consider a breakfast served to you of ham and eggs. The chicken is involved in the breakfast. The pig is committed. I am ten times more committed than that pig.
• When you go to www.100-percent-commitment.com, it would redirect to this blog site if I had had the foresight to buy that domain name a few years ago when it was available.
• If you could see my face right now, you’d see that I’m gritting my teeth in an expression of absolute total commitment.
• I will never, ever give up… and if I do ever give do give up, I promise I will shoot myself in the face with a water gun filled with honey and stick my entire head in a fire ant hole… but
  I won’t because I will never, ever give up…and if I do, I’ll do the fire ant thing…but I won’t because I just won’t!*

*And if I do, FIRE ANTS!

My Body's A Wonderland

As in, “I wonder what it’s going to do to me this week.” Here’s what I had to deal with over the past seven days:

• Missed three of my regular workouts
• Parents sent over a high-fat meal (including cake and a pecan pie) to my house for bday
• Co-worker left a bag of candy bars on my desk for bday
• Bday dinner at my favorite restaurant
• Bday cake at work

It felt like just too much to overcome, so even though I’ve really knuckled down and done well the past few days, I stepped on the scale this morning with a sense of doom and trepidation, sort of like when Indiana Jones goes into the dark, scary cave in the deepest, darkest part of the forbidden Amazon and steps on the scale.

Weekly weigh-in: 257.8
Loss: 3.5 lbs
Total loss: 33.7 lbs.
Emotion: Bewilderment

It just goes to show that missteps along the way don’t always count against you in the long run. Looking back on it, I think that the fear of what I’d done to myself added extra intensity to my workouts (which I caught back up on late in the week) and added a laser-like focus to what I was consuming.

Yes, I’m getting older, but I like to think I’m getting better as well.

More Fitness Center Conversation Starters

• “Don’t worry–I’m wiping the sweat off the machine with my sweaty towel.”
• “This isn’t really an iPod; it’s a bar of Dial Soap with a shoelace stuck in it.”
• “I like that this treadmill has a TV, but I wish it had a recliner, too.”
• “Are you really not supposed to pee in the shower?”
• “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.”
• “How many sit-ups does it take to burn off a chimichanga?”
• “Wow, how’d you get so muscley?”
• “Want to share a set of earphones?”
• “Pardon me if I shout obscenities while I use the rowing machine.”
• “I wish they’d replace these mirrors with those ones from the funhouse.”
• “I think they call it an “elliptical” machine because it makes you feel elliptical all over.”
• “Does this water taste too steroidy?”
• “I thought I hired a personal trainer, but it turns out it was just a homeless guy at the bus station.”
• “I’m Popeye the Sailor Man. Dilly dilly do...Popeye the sailor…what? You never sing along with your mp3 player?”
• “Who wants tickets to the gun show, baby? Oh… I didn’t realize there was an actual gun show in town. No, I don’t really have any tickets. I’m sorry I bothered you.”
• “Mind if I blog about this conversation this afternoon?”

Confush*t Say...

...person who weigh in every day eventually get pounded.

...person who eat too much cake is icing for trouble.

...person who enter 5K race without training is running with wrong crowd.

...person who forgets the pasta is doomed to reheat it.

...person who always clean plate find leftovers on scale.

...person who think dieting with children is easy is kidding self.

...person with bad eating habits won't see gut results.

...person who skip breakfast break faster.

...person who break wind in crowded gym best excercise discretion.

...person who visit scale weekly has weight-and-see attitude.

...person who say brownies talk to him might be fudging truth.

...person who write weight loss blog is starving for attention.

Confush*t's motto:
Don't sweat the petty stuff, pet the sweaty stuff
or stuff the cheesy puffs.

A Letter to Myself from Myself a Year From Now

Dear Jack,

I’m emailing you from one year in the future (go to Outlook under Preferences and turn off “Linear Time” setting… oh, wait… that might be in the next upgrade). As someone who knows you better than most, let me be the first to say, “I never thought you’d be able to do it.”

I mean, really. Fourteen months ago you were a f*cking mess. Feeling sorry for yourself. Constant aches and pains. Eating in the car, at your desk, standing over the sink. Eating, eating, eating.

Then one day you snapped out of it. I can’t even remember exactly what set you off, but you got your act together and I’m sure glad you did. I’m here to report that life is better than ever for your future self. Here’s the lowdown…


The good news: You have really lost a lot of weight.
The bad news: Some of those skinny pants you saved weren’t as fashionable as you thought.

The good news: You feel better than you have for years.
The bad news: You don’t have any excuse not to do all that work around the house anymore.

The good news: You’ve managed to keep the weight off.
The bad news: New Cell Scale technology makes your cell phone yell out your current weight every 20 minutes.

The good news: Paris Hilton got really, really fat.
The bad news: She gets drunk and posts obnoxious comments on your blog all the time.

The good news: You’re going to get a sweet new car this fall.
The bad news: Please wear your seat belt (especially on November 12th, January 24th, February 2nd and April 20th).

The good news: The economy finally got better.
The bad news: Gas is $7 a gallon.

The good news: Jack Sh*t, Gettin’ Fit is still going strong.
The bad news: You ran out of good ideas 11 months ago.


Anyway, happy birthday Year-Ago Jack. Thanks a bunch for getting your sh*t together, buddy.

Sincerely,

Jack Sh*t
May 28, 2010

What the Celery Said to Me...

• “Hey, I’m not gonna eat myself.”
• “Don’t smear peanut butter on me; I’m allergic to peanuts… arrrrggghhh!”
• “Y’know, famed Italian lover Casanova made sure to include lots of celery in his diet to keep up his stamina. Wink wink.”
• “No, you can’t put me in a Bloody Mary.”
• “What? Are you waiting for a better offer from the brownies?”
• “Dude, I’m celery. Eat all you want.”
• “Medium stalk. Six f*ckin’ calories. Booya!”
• “Close your eyes and pretend I’m French fries.”
• “If I make you throw up, that’s even fewer calories.”
• “Blue cheese dressing? I don’t think so.”
• “Yes, I’m pretty sure I’m an actual food.”
• “If you don’t eat me, I’m gonna stalk you. Get it? Stalk you.”
• “Don’t I bring back memories of when you hated celery as a kid?”
• “Come on, get your crunch on.”
• “Aren’t you in the mood for a snack that tastes like *ss?”

What the Brownies Said to Me...

• “D*mn, you’re looking skinny today.”
• “Did you know that chocolate contains phenyl ethylamine, a mild mood elevator?”
• “Wow, I’m still warm.”
• “Consider it a reward for the outstanding will power you’ve been exhibiting lately.”
• “You don’t want to waste food, do you?”
• “Yeah, but your weigh-in is days away.”
• “Is it hot in here or is it just us?”
• “It’s rude to stare.”
• “We heard there’s a party going on in your mouth.”
• “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
• “Bite me.”
• “I want you to want me.”
• “You know, I’m part of a complete breakfast.”
• “Drink me with skim milk and it’ll all balance out.”
• “You’re scared to eat me. Bawwwk bawwwk bawwwwk.”
• “So, do you come to the kitchen often?”
• “EAT US UP EAT US UP EAT EAT EAT US UP!”
• “Wow, you look like you’ve had a really stressful day.”
• “You complete me.”
• “You can start a new diet tomorrow.”
• “Brooooowwwwwwwnnnnniiiiieeeeeessssssss…”

Bent But Not Broken

I don’t know if it’s bad mojo, the six-week blahs or birthday blues, but I’ve hit my first rough patch in my weight loss journey.

Over the weekend, I wound up eating more and doing less than I planned. That's okay, I told myself. It's a holiday.

Yesterday, I had to work through lunch, so I missed my noontime workout. That’s okay, I told myself. I’ll do something after work.

Then I got busy helping my daughter Pisa figure out some crazy computer animation program she bought with her own money. Anyway, it’s harder than Chinese arithmetic, so all of a sudden it’s bedtime and I haven’t moved a muscle all day it seems. Plus, my stomach’s growling like a pitbull. That's okay, I told myself. I'll have a snack.

I’m standing in the pantry thinking that I’ve already shot any chance of some scale love this week by eating too much on Monday and not doing a blasted thing on Tuesday. Why not have a little late-night munch-munch?

That's not okay, I told myself.

It seems I’ve spent most of my life living to eat instead of eating to live. I started this trek to change things and I feel like I’m on my way. There’s always gonna be bad days, but bad days aren’t what got me where I am right now.

Bad weeks.

Bad months.

Maybe even bad years.

Bad days are a blip, here and gone. They only mean something if you let them mean something. If you let them add up, and you let them change your path.

I post a lot of silly sh*t in this space, but make no mistake about it: I’ve worked d*mn hard to get where I am right now. I've dropped thirty pounds over the last six weeks, and I’m not letting a bad day or two knock me off my game.

I’m in it to win it.

Whoops… I meant, lose it.

Names To Call Water to Make It Sound More Interesting

We weight-loss warriors know how important it is to consume large quantities of water each day. The problem? It's just so d*mn boring.

So here's a list of names to call water in order to add a little zest to your daily drink-'em-ups:

• H2Oh, This Is So Delicious
• Hydration Salvation
• Aqua-nol
• Ocean Potion
• Water You Waiting For?
• Life Elixer
• Mountain Dew-drops
• Allie Allie Aqua Free
• Two Parts Hydrogen, One Part Oxygen, On the Rocks
• Liquid Snowflakes
• Noca-Cola
• Waterade
• Fluid Punch
• 0-Up
• Moot Beer
• Tappé Watté
• TCBW
• Nothing Juice
• Hydrotini
• Dr. Tapper
• Day-Old Ice
• Blankweiser

The Ballad of Jack Chompit

Come and listen to a story 'bout a man named Jack,
Who never quit eating ‘cept to stop and have a snack.
Then one day he was standing on his scale,
And he realized he’d really let his body go to hell.
(Obesity that is, black fat, Texas toast)

Well the first thing you know old Jack he made a vow,
He’d ratchet up the exercise and slow down on the chow.
He wanted to get his weight back to where it oughta be,
So he loaded up his sh*t and he moved to Bloggery.
(Google Blogger that is, writing posts, makin’ jokes)

Well now it's time to say hello to Jack and all his sh*t
As he chronicles his adventures on his journey to get fit.
You're all invited back each day to this locality,
To have a heaping helping of health and hilarity.
(Jack Sh*t, Gettin’ Fit, that is.)
Y'all come back now, ya hear?

Other Blogs I’m Thinking About Starting

• Let’s Knit with Jack Sh*t (knitting)
• Jack Sh*t’s Money Pit (financial advice)
• Jack Sh*t, Tool Kit (home repair)
• Jack Sh*t, 7-10 Split (bowling)
• Jack Sh*t’s Sh*t A Brick (brick-sh*tting)
• Jack Sh*t, Judicial Writ (law)
• Jack Sh*t, Base Hit (baseball)
• Jack Sh*t Throws a Fit (politics)
• Jack Sh*t, That Sh*t Don’t Fit (fashion)
• Jack Sh*t, Stay, Sit (dog obedience)
• Jack Sh*t, Rinse, Spit (dentistry)
• Jack Sh*t on his Learner’s Permit (driving)
• Jack Sh*t Banana Split (weight gaining)

Last one might be the only one I’m actually qualified to write.

Why I Hate My Doctor

Somebody Just Stepped In It...

There was a time (yesterday) when I held a certain smug satisfaction that, in the entire weight loss blogging community… hell, in the entire internet… that Jack Sh*t, Gettin’ Fit had been the sole recipient of the Really Sh*tty Weight Loss Blog award.

I’ve been thinking about bestowing this award on Dina at Pseudogout ever since she started begging for it like a fat kid after a chocolate cupcake.

But before just sending it off all willy-nilly, I decided that I needed to establish some ground rules for the award, so that it doesn’t lose any of its current luster and prestige. After all, we don’t want to see the internet just get overrun with sh*tty blogs.

First off, there’s no passing it on to five, ten, fifteen bloggers. You don’t see Kate Winslet get handed an Oscar and then having to go give duplicate statues to Meryl Streep, Charlize Theron and Phyllis Diller. If there’s somebody you really want to recognize for their sh*tty contributions to the weight loss community, please feel free to do so. But it’s not a requirement.

Speaking of requirements, you must (like the Oscars) write an eloquent acceptance speech in which you name five… no ten… no seven things you admire about the person that gave you the award. That may sound self-serving, but… well, now that I think about it, it’s incredibly self-serving. My award, my rules.

Speaking of rules, that’s all the rules. See how nice and simple my award is? Not a lot of rules and sh*t.

So, congratulations Dina for providing some much-needed entertainment wrapped in a layer of general snarkiness with a delicious glaze of everyday WTF. It’s exactly the kind of blog that embodies this award. This sh*t’s for you, Dina!

Slow and Steady

Weekly weigh-in: 261.3
Loss: 1.3 lbs
Total loss: 30.2 lbs.
Emotion: Slow, Steady

Slow and steady may win the race, but it sure makes for a sorry spectator sport. All my good food choices this week seemed to have an asterisk beside them. I didn’t eat as much as I could have*, limited the amount of alcohol I drank**, and didn’t pig out once.***

*Ate more than I should have
**Drank alcohol
***Didn’t dig in and increase my workout intensity

Still… a loss is a loss, and I’ll take what I can get. Time flies, so even a pound…a half pound…a quarter of a pound… if I can just keep on keeping on, things will work out okay in the end. It’ll be, as the Queen of England so often says “all good in the hood.”

Saturday Sh*tpile

It was William Shakespeare (or maybe, Carrot Top) who said “Temptation is the fire that brings up the scum of the heart.” This weekend seems to be one enticement after another. Yesterday I was at a charity golf tournament that featured a double whammy: all-you-can-eat buffet lunch and a beer-laden beverage cart that seemed to show up every other hole. Luckily, the buffet had lots of healthy choices… salad, fresh veggies, fruit…that I seem to be the only person in the room availing themselves of. Out on the course, I nursed a Bud Light like it was dying of terminal cancer. All in all, I was pretty proud of myself for getting through the day without an “Ah, what the hell?” breakdown.

Then today, I had to drop my daughter Pisa off to meet some friends for a Memorial Day camping trip. The problem? I had to meet a group at the crack of dawn at Starbucks. Keep in mind that I’m four days into a no-coffee program. We wound up having the hang around the place for a half hour, and the aroma was almost overwhelming. I got a juice drink and cursed the gods that kept yucking it up at my expense.

Tomorrow, my wife Anita and I have a kid-free evening, so we’re planning an overnight outing. I’m going to try to plan it out and keep things from getting too, too out of hand. This is full-scale warfare, so I know I can’t worry too much about a single skirmish here or there. Keep your perspective, and pick your battles.

Lowfat Recipe Names That Sound Dirty

• Peppery Jerk Chicken
• Lean Beef Stroganoff
• Summer Succotash Salad
• Kumquat Nut Bread
• Fresh Casaba Melons
• Cock-A-Leekie Soup
• Sugar-Free Cherry Tart
• Tomatoes with Extra Virgin Olive Oil
• Conch Fritters
• Spicy Tuna Roll
  
• Buttered Crumpet
• Grilled Cochinita
• No-Butter Sticky Buns
• Pu Pu Platter
• Shrimp Cocktail
• Sh*ttake Focaccia

A Message from Jack Sh*t's Wife, Anita

Attention fat people: will you please give me my husband back.

It seems like he spends every waking hour obsessing about his diet, working out like a demon or wasting hours and hours with this absurd blogamacallit.

The other night when he was supposed to be helping our daughter Pisa with her math homework, I caught him scribbling out a list of gibberish titled “Lowfat Recipe Names That Sound Dirty.” WTF?

And he was late picking up our other daughter Holly at her audition because he was home giggling over comments you overweight time-wasters left on his posts. Can’t you see that you people are egging this foolishness on?

It’s never been particularly easy being Mrs. Sh*t, but now it’s virtually impossible. So I’m asking for you to please quit visiting his stupid little blog thing and especially quit commenting on his ridiculous posts.

I appreciate your cooperation.

Sincerely,

Anita Sh*t

Enhancements I’m Considering Making to my Weight Loss Blog

• 24-hour Scale Cam
• Cash-for-comments promotion
• Vlog (not video blog, but guest commentary by my Russian friend Vlog Kuznetsov)
• Widget that generates painful electric shock when you look at pictures of food
• “Fat Pants” auction area
• Extra-forgiving calorie calculator
• Lickable wallpaper (available for download)
• Google-Goo Clusters
• Real-time hunger meter
• RSS Feed that actually feeds you tiny Bit O’ Honeys
• Podcast of nighttime stomach rumbling
• Portal to virtual world called “Binge City”
• Online tool that creates healthy meal plans, then “accidently” deletes them
• “Best of Jack Sh*t, Gettin’ Fit” feature (still waiting for a post that qualifies)

This Poo's For You

As I was driving my youngest daughter to school this morning, I came up alongside a truck sporting a bunch of interesting signage on the back and sides. Apparently, this young guy was a part of the “On Doody” franchise. In case you’re not familiar with the “On Doody” brand, here’s some of the sales pitch plastered all over this poor b*stard’s vehicle: “Because Dogs Can’t Flush!,” “They Poop, We Scoop!” “Our Business is ‘Picking Up’”. Whoever provides the marketing material for “On Doody” could get a second job filling in at Jack Sh*t, Gettin’ Fit Enterprises.

Anyway, I can see this guy a year or so ago, watching an infomercial or reading a brochure about this fantastic career opportunity. For a small initial investment, he could have an ownership position where he could…

• Meet interesting people
• Set your own hours
• Not get trapped in a stuffy office or cubicle
• Be your own boss

I got news for you, Poopy: even if you’re making halfway decent money, if you’re tromping around in a stranger’s backyard collecting dried-up excrement, then you’ve got a sh*tty job.

So if you’re struggling with worrisome weigh-ins, fighting off hunger pains with a baseball bat, sore all over from trying to make your muscles do things they’re not in the mood to do, or weary of battling your worse inner demons, take a deep breath and give thanks that you’re not “On Doody” today.

Things I Might Have Twatted If I Twittered

• “Hey, I just saw a squirrel.”
• “Carbs, schmarbs… pass me them waffles!”
• “I’m really not feeling very exercisy today.”
• “Wow… saw cloud that looks like mashed potatoes.”
• “How many calories could a spoonful of marshmallow crème possibly have?”
• “I’m doing fine without coffee. I really…zzz..zzzzz.zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.”
• “FYI: the tuna smoothie experiment was a complete failure.”
• “D*mmit…turns out restaurant doesn’t have a “delicious, no calories” section on menu
• “Not even sure why I went in a store called ‘Nothin’ but Taffy.’”
• “I could eat a biscuit the size of a hubcap.”
• “There’s a cloud that looks like big bowl of ice cream.”
• “Good for me. Didn’t take the elevator (took escalator insead).”
• “Am on way to the gym and am going to… ahhhhhhh, look out. Nice driving, f*cktard!”
• “Stopped by Starbucks and requested no sugar, no fat, no whip. Lady charged me $4 and handed me empty cup.”
• “This twitter feed makes my blog look intelligent.”
• “That cloud looks just like cotton candy.”
• “I’m on track with my calories today as long as all I have for dinner is celery.”
• “It’s possible that I have too much time on my hands.”
• “Just call me Jack Tw*t.”

Joyride

I seem to have a smile on my face every time I write on this blog. I may be feeling down about how far I’ve let myself go and apprehensive about how far I have to go to make it all right, but when I’m writing about it… thinking about it… talking about it… I feel like all’s right in the world, and the miles just seem to tick by like nothing.

We didn’t get where we are without spending a lot of alone time with ourselves and whatever it is (stress? anxiety? comfort? boredom? obsession?) that made us fixate on food and pack away the pounds. Make no mistake, it wasn’t good old-fashioned hunger, at least I know it wasn’t in my case. How many times have you eaten when you knew there was no possible way you could actually be hungry?

This journey is hard work, to be sure, but it is rewarding and it can be fun. If you aren’t getting at least a little enjoyment out of your quest for weight loss success, I’m afraid you’re bailing water on the Titanic: no matter how furiously you work or how hard you try, chances are you’re going down with the ship.

It can’t simply be about denial. It has to be about understanding what drives the desire, what fuels the insatiable hunger for what we know is the last thing we actually need. We need to embrace change and grant ourselves a new lease on life. The road is long and winding, and sometimes we don’t seem to be making good time. But make no mistake about it: we’re on our way.

Don’t expect it to happen overnight, but it is going to happen. There’s no doubt that it will be a long trip–the journey of a lifetime–but I’ve got plenty of time, plenty of will and plenty of sage advice and stupid lists to share with you. It’s a long road, but it doesn’t seem quite so long when you have good company.

What My Scale Might Say If It Could Talk

• “Get off! Get off! Get off!”
• “Maybe you’re just retaining fat.”
• “They say any loss is a good loss. How’s about -.00001 lbs.?”
• “Here comes the pain!”
• “Round and round she goes, where she stops, nobody knows.”
• “When you lose, you take all the credit; when you gain, ya blame me!”
• “Looks like you’ve got Dunlap’s Disease. Your belly’s done lapped over your belt.”
• “Ummmmph!”
• “On the moon, you’d only weigh 43 pounds.”
• “Why don’t you try again… maybe it’ll be drastically lower.”
• “And you thought nobody saw you eat those chips…”
• “Good news: you’re still beating anorexia!”
• “Does this number make you look fat?”
• “Tippin’ is encouraged. Get it, get it? Tippin’ the scales… ah, you don’t know funny.”
• “Are you a glutton for punishment or just a regular glutton?”
• “For God’s sake–will you please put on some underwear?”
• “BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA….”
• “Let’s say we just call it two hundred and plenty?”
• “I’ve got an idea: today I’ll stand on you and call you a f*ckin’ b*tch.”
• “Say, are you losing weight?

New Challenge Brewing

Karen at Not Just Celery threw down a 21-day challenge to curb her binging tendencies and invited her readership to jump on board with their own self-challenges and then log in their progress.

After successfully dumping my diet soda habit (36 fizz-free days and counting), I decided that it was time to unplug the coffee pot. I’ve already dropped from several cups a day to one big mug in the morning. My problem? I take my coffee Willy Wonka-style… loaded with sugary crap that makes it taste like a candy bar has been melted into it. I’ve tried to switch to the sugar-free, low-fat versions, but it’s never really taken.

I was drinking several Diet Cokes and Diet Dr. Peppers every day, and I never had any headaches or withdrawals from dropping them from my daily routine, so I can’t imagine that it’s going to be any more difficult to say “no” to the cup of joe. Still, there’s something very comforting and civilized about reading the paper and sipping coffee. I’ve never been a “tea” person, so that’s not my solution. I'm sure I'll find a suitable substitute.

After this 21-day challenge, I may still treat myself to a weekend brew from time to time. But I suspect it will be just like it was with the diet sodas; once I realize that I don’t really need it, I won’t really want it.

Signs It's Going to Be a Bad Weight-Loss Day

• Woke up with a hunk of fudge in your mouth.
• Gym closed for “swine flu” precautions.
• Friends invite you to “Fondue Throwdown.”
• You hear voices in the kitchen; turns out to be plate of talking brownies.
• Starbucks barista: “Wait, was that supposed to be non-fat, no-whip?”
• Ice cream truck has flat tire in front of your house.
• Cute neighbor selling Girl Scout cookies door to door.
• You’ve maxed out your points for today by 6:30 p.m. yesterday.
• Pedometer says you’ve walked minus 1 mile so far.
• Your hunger pains have hunger pains.
• Freezer breaks down day after you bought all those popscicles.
• Guy at concession stand at movies could have sworn you said “Mo’ butter.”
• Weight Watcher instructor gasps when you walk through door.
• A secret admirer keeps leaving you glazed donuts and slices of crispy bacon.
• Boss invites you to lunch at Cheesecake Factory.
• Turns out recipe for “fat-free lemon bars” had two sticks of butter.
• Could swear you heard scale laugh as you came near it.

Happy f*ckin' Monday.

Comments You Really Don't Want to See on Your Weight Loss Blog

• “Maybe something was wrong with the scale.”
• “All my Nazi buddies loved your last post.”
• “Hey, I decided to Follow you. You drive the white Corolla, right?”
• “It’s an all-you-can-eat buffet, so technically they can’t ask you to leave.”
• “Better luck next week.”
• “Who hasn’t had to dig their ‘fat pants’ back out of the closet?”
• “You do realize this is a weight loss blog, right?”
• “That’s okay, I haven’t been to the gym in a month either.”
• “So which one is the “before” picture and which one is the “after”?
• “I agree. Giving up might be for the best.”
• “Geez, that makes me feel better about my own terrible weekend.”
• “That’s a lot of cookies. You might want to contact the Guiness people.”
• “Wow, your blog is insightful, inspirational and incredibly racist.”
• “So you ate an entire wedding cake…”
• “Your blog reminds me of the one by that Jack Sh*t guy.”

Sometimes You Win, Sometimes You Lose... Sometimes Both

Weekly weigh-in: 262.6
Loss: 3.1 lbs
Total loss: 28.9 lbs.
Emotion: Conquery

I may act a fool fairly regularly, but I’m actually pretty wise to the ways of weight-loss success. I know–h*ll, we all know–exactly what it takes to drop the pounds: less chewin’ and more doin’. Follow that simple formula and, chances are, the scale will bend to your will.

Satuday Ramblings

Saturday’s are generally slow days here at Jack Sh*t, Gettin’ Fit Enterprises. People (me included) are busy living their lives on the weekend. Weight loss blogs are workday distractions, for the most part. A minute-or-two diversion from a spreadsheet, from a sales report, from a load of laundry. Saturdays ought to be blog-free days, in my opinion, but we’ve got bills to pay (I do get paid to do this, right?).

* * *

My mother smoked regularly for thirty or so years. She may have wanted to quit, but I don’t remember her ever trying very hard. My father smoked, too, so nobody was putting much if any pressure on her.

Then her older sister, a smoker like her, was diagnosed with lung cancer. She watched her die slowly, slowly and with heart-breaking pain.

Mom put down the cigarettes after the funeral and quit cold turkey. Dad wasn’t so interested in quitting, but he didn’t really have a say in the decision. It was over.

Today if you light a cigarette around my mother, you’d best be prepared for a lecture that might light your eyebrows on fire. She won’t hold her tongue and she won’t hold back.

I was at Costco last night, when I was nearly rear-ended by a rather large woman eating a huge Eskimo pie and driving one on those little motorized shopping carts. The cart’s basket was loaded down with the biggest assortment of absolute crap you’ve ever seen. Jumbo bag of M&M’s, chips, Oreo’s, Fruit Loops… and a case of generic brand weight-lose shakes.

“Beep, beep,” she said, angling her Little Rascal around me and my cart.

I watched her whiz by me, the little cart working mightily to carry her massive frame down the jumbo-sized aisles, and a dozen thoughts and scenarios raced through my mind.

• You should go snatch the key from her scooter and make her come after it; that would probably be the most exercise she’s had this week.
• You should engage her and talk frankly about nutrition and obeisity… explain to her that she’s racing toward the abyss in a little clown car.
• Tell her if she can’t do it for herself, do it for those two kids I imagine you have, back at home chomping on Doritos and playing video games on this bright sunny afternoon.
• Scream at her: “This is the only life we get. Do you want to live yours’ like this?”
• Grab her ice cream and eat it all in one bite (I hadn’t had an Eskimo pie in ages…)

Of course, I did nothing but say “Excuse me,” and wrestle my cart out of the way. I purchased by bananas and frozen fruit and went on my merry way.

Try as you might, you can’t rescue everyone. That’s something my mother would probably tell me.

But she’d also tell me this: you can rescue yourself.

Fitness Center Conversation Starters

• “Do you think these leg warmers are too 80’s?”
• “So, are you trying to lose weight or are you just a sado-masochist?”
• “Whew, I really shouldn’t have had that fourth burrito…”
• “Does this sweatband make me look fat?”
• “I heard this gym is haunted by a Civil War-era weightlifter ghost.”
• “How come nobody ever brings donuts up here?”
• “I can bench press a Mazda.”
• “My gluteusis is feeling rather maximus today.”
• “Are you using that machine you’re working out on?”
• “How many points are in a bottle of Gatorade?”
• “Isn’t it weird how taco shells and tortilla chips taste so much alike?”
• “My iPod is filled with nothing but Spanish lullabyes and Rush Limbaugh podcasts.”
• “I’m feeling all exercisy!”
• “Every time I do a push-up, I think about those orange sherbet treats with the sticks. What were those called?”
• “Is that personal trainer a man or a woman?”
• “Do they have anything lighter than 2 lb. dumbbells?”
• “Which one is the lucky treadmill?”
• “Will you spot me… five bucks?”
• “Is that one of those cellular telephones?”
• “I usually do my workouts in the Play Area at McDonald’s.”
• “I’ve got some mental instability issues, and my psychiatrist says I need to make new friends. Hi!”
• “So, have you read my blog?”

One Month Down

I generally treat this space as a place to pontificate, a (much-needed) trip to the psychiatrist or (more often than not) stand-up night at a really bad comedy club, but I don’t want to forget that I’m here for the same reason you’re here: because I am on a weight loss journey.

I’ve recently logged in my first month and I just wanted to take a quick look-see at my progress and accomplishments.

Good news: I’ve lost weight (25.8 lbs. to be exact).
Bad news: Had to retire my favorite belt.

Good news: I’ve joined a gym right around the corner from my office and am exercising daily.
Bad news: Laundry has quadrupled (and gotten extra stinky)

Good news: I’m making better food choices.
Bad news: Vending machine sales at my office are way down.

Good news: I haven’t had a diet soda in over a month.
Bad news: Guess who gets the money from the office vending machines?

Good news: I bought myself a fancy VitaMix blender and am blending up anything and everything.
Bad news: The cat is missing.

Good news: I’m down a pants size.
Bad news: I own more pants that I’m too big for than ones that fit.

Good news: I’m sleeping better, moving better and feeling better.
Bad news: I didn’t do this sooner.

Good news (for me): I’ve started my own weight loss blog.
Bad news (for everybody else): I’ve started my own weight loss blog.

Thanks to everyone who’s stopped by and shared their time and comments with me. I really do appreciate it.

Update

More good news: I won a very prestigious blogging award (thanks …45 and Aspiring)

More bad news: It looks like the wallpaper in my grandmother’s bathroom (thanks a lot, …45 and Aspiring)

Ways to Spice Up Your Workout Session

• Chase imaginary ice cream truck down the block
• Cut neighbor’s yard (only applies if you live next door to me)
• Grocery cart surfing
• Do your exercise DVD in fast motion
• Dress in camouflage and pretend you’re in Boot Camp
• Go for a walk blindfolded
• See how many times you can spin around during elevator ride
• Give spouse piggy-back ride during mall walk
• Challenge office co-workers into impromptu game of hallway dodgeball
• Ride unicycle to church
• Swim laps wearing a ski coat and galoshes
• In weight room, yammer out loud in crazy Russian accent
• Walk up the “down” escalator at the mall
• Pick a random person at the gym and follow him/her around, impatiently waiting on each piece of equipment he/she uses
• Nude Tae Bo
• Car yoga (just ignore those disturbed looks from other drivers)
• Vacuum the drapes
• Strap sponges to hips and perform hands-free car wash
• Easy way to get heart rate up? Shoplifting
• Blogging while jogging

This is Your Wake Up Call

Wake up.

There’s a bright shiny new day waiting for you and you’re letting it slip away while you lie there beneath your layers and layers of covers, wishing the world would go away. I’ve got news for you, Sunshine: the world’s not going anywhere. It’ll keep spinning, keep churning, keep going on and on and on, and it doesn’t particularly care if it goes on and on and on with or without you. You’ve been lying in the dark so long that the world has just about forgotten all about you. Maybe it’s time to make it remember.

It’s time to get up and start moving.

Move toward your goals. Move toward your dreams. Move toward the life you know you want and deserve. You’ve squandered day after day, year after year, but here’s the thing: it just doesn’t matter. Yesterday is dead and buried, and today is right here, so bright and beautiful and full of possibility and…

I know, I know.

Life.

You gotta runrunrun. You’ve got deadlines and responsibilities. You’ve got pressures and problems. You simply don’t have enough time to get it all done. It’s all just too much to bear.

I don’t mean to laugh at you, I really don’t, but…

Do you really think you’re the only one with deadlines and responsibilities, pressures and problems?

Everybody everyday is dealing with whatever they have to deal with, and guess what? Some of it makes your big fat worries look like less than nothing. Sure, life is busy, busy, busy, and there’s never enough time to do everything. However, there’s always enough time to do the most important thing, and right now the most important thing is for you to GET UP.

Get up and start moving.

Get up and start living.

You’ve been feeling sorry for yourself so long that you think it’s your natural state. I’m here to tell you that it isn’t. Not by a long shot.

So your life could be better.

Make it better.

It is within you to grab hold of your life and bring it back under control. No, it won’t be easy. Did I say it would be? It will be a day-to-day struggle, a month-by-month challenge, the work of a lifetime. But we both know it will be worth it, don’t we? We both know that this isn’t where you want to be, where you were meant to be.

You can lie there feeling sorry for yourself or you can get up and make something out of this beautiful day. You didn’t get where you are overnight, and it won’t get better in a matter of days… but it will get better. I promise you it will get better.

You’ve been down long enough.

Wake up.

“Does This Blog Make My Ass Look Fat?” and More Rejected Blog Names

• Brokediet Mountain
• Slimblog Millionaire
• Stairway to Heavin’
• You Can’t Always Eat What You Want
• One Day at a… F*ck it, Somebody Give Me a Twinkee
• Buddy, You Just Said a Mouthful
• A Second Helping of Love, Encouragement and Support
• Bite Me
• Eat, Drink & Be Scary
• Lb-eration!
• Fat Worse Than Death
• Hotel Scale-fornia
• Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag (of 100-Calorie Chips)
• Long Tall Fat Sally
• Whole Lotta Cheatin’ Going On
• Plump Fiction
• Dr. Foodlove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Diet
• The Fat-rix
• (I Can’t Get No) Fatty Action
• Johnny B. Hungry
• I Wanna Hold Your Ham

Again, my apologies if I included any actual blog names here. Prolonged silliness seems to be an effective appetite suppressant for me. Good for me. Not so good for you.

Worst “Biggest Loser Finale” Recap Ever

Since I have the attention span of a gnat, I’m probably not the best source for a detailed recap of last night’s “Biggest Loser” finale. However, just in case you missed it and weren’t able to locate one of the other 10,000,000 recap articles on the internet, here goes…

First off, I can’t stand how they stretch this show out with the cliffhanger cuts to commercial, so I Tivo’d it and zipped through the commercials. Well, sometimes a little past the commercials. Okay, sometimes I watched entire segments at 12X normal speed.
But I think I got the gist of the entire thing.

First, Fancy Lady comes out and yaks. Motherhood has really brought out Fancy Lady’s self confidence, inner glow and cleavage. Past winners show up and still haven’t gained their weight back, so I lose a bet.

Next, we (America) have to decide which of two indentical twins to send to next season’s Biggest Loser (“Biggest Loser: Seperated Twins”). Uh oh, they have to go get their sweat on with Bob and Mean Girl. Good luck, twins!

Fast forward. Fast forward. Fast forward. Whoa, is that Old Guy? Back up. Must be cuz Old Lady came out first. D*mn, those two must have been non-stop mall walking since they left the show. I think Old Guy’s a shoe-in to win the “Most Weight Lost at Home” award, especially since I’ve already watched the entire show and am writing this from memory.

Black Guy looks good, but not as good as he thinks he does. Black Girl looks better than she thinks she does. Get off the stage, Black Guy! So far, average weight loss, per person, is 150 lbs. (or so).

Twins getting a taste of what it’s like in BL Hell. Mean Girl promises puke-age soon. Stay tuned!

Big Regular Guy and Bigger Regular Guy comes out. Bigger Sassy Girl comes out, as well as Big Sassy Girl. Blah blah blah. Fast forward. Sad Housewife and Sadder Housewife come out, along with Thing 1 and Thing 2. Thing 1 and Thing 2 do crazy dance.

Really Big Fat Girl’s Mom comes out and then… whoa… Really Big Fat Girl isn’t so much really big and fat anymore. And I think she’s done something to her hair. Way to go, Really Big Fat Girl! And Really, I Mean Really Big Fat Guy now weighs less than Really, I Mean Really Big Fat Guy’s Friend. WTG, RIMRBFG!

Crocodile Dundee is in the audience, and Fancy Lady is talking to him and his daughter for some reason.

Last contestants: Crying Girl, Different Hair Color Girl and the Ronfather. Ronfather only one with chance against Old Guy. Nope, sorry. Thanks for playing.

America picks Twin #2. Twin #1 gets a copy of “Biggest Loser: The Board Game.”

Out comes Mike. D*mn! You did good, kid. However, I get really sad every time I see his brother Cryin' Max. C’mon, Biggest Loser people: go ahead and sign that poor b*stard up for next season. I don’t know about you, but I don’t buy Mike’s “Don’t worry, Cryin' Max… I know you didn’t get to do the once-in-a-lifetime life changing makeover with me and Dad, but I’m going to help you myself… right after I get back from New York and my cover shoot for GQ.” Yeah, right. I got news for ya, Cryin' Max: Mike’s going to discover girls in about fifteen minutes and that will be the last you’ve ever seen of him.

Helen comes out and, unless I miss my guess (and remember, I’ve already seen the entire show), there’s your Biggest Loser right there. I think she went straight from the Biggest Loser campus to military boot camp. She says she’s been lifting tractors, fallen tree trunks, volkswagons… blah blah blah.

Tara is last to come out and we see the 75 challenges she won. No one’s ever beaten her. She’s unbeatable. Call her Unbeatable Tara. The Ultimate Biggest Loser.

Tara loses.

Helen wins.

Like Barbie Says...

..."Math is hard!"

I was doodling around with my weight loss numbers, trying to find a new way to feel good about myself, when I realized that I f*cked them up six ways to Sunday.

First, I shorted myself a pound on the first week's weigh-in. It was 14.5 pounds, not 13.5 lbs. Impressive, yes, but remember that my initial weigh-in was while wearing big heavy sneakers (hey, this ain't Jack Sh*t's first rodeo, boys and girls).

Next, I owe my scale a humbe and sincere apology. I went on a blue-streak rant about it a couple of weeks ago for giving me the second-week gutshot of a 1.3 pound gain, even though I swore to all who would listen that I had been good as gold.

Turns out that I actually had a 5.2 lb. loss that week. Addition, subtraction... hey, I think I missed that week in grade school.

Finally, I shorted myself a pound on my total so far. Using this new-fangled device I learned about called a "calculator," I discovered that my true loss is 25.8 lbs. in just this side of a month. Even discounting the sneaker cheat to get the ball rolling, I think I can live with that number.

Two questions:

1. Who volunteers to go behind me and check my math going forward?
2. Did I really put a picture of Barbie on a weight loss blog?

UPDATE: Whoops, I missed a weekly weigh-in in my original calculations, so my math wasn't quite as sucky as I thought.

UPDATE 2: You really, really don't want to google "Fat Barbie."

Stick It To Me, Baby

If you have trouble sticking to a diet, I’m ready to stick it to you.

That’s right, for a limited time, I’m offering my revolutionary weight loss tool: Jack Sh*t’s “Don’t Eat Sh*t” Diet Wrap™. One small strip, applied daily, can drastically increase your odds for weight loss success. Best of all, you can eat whatever you want while wearing it! Craving some cheesecake, nachos or an entire pizza? Strap on the patented “Don’t Eat Sh*t” Diet Wrap™ and go to town. I have never heard anyone complain that it doesn’t work.

Act now and I’ll throw in a roll of Jack Sh*t’s “Don’t Eat Sh*t” Diet Wrap™, Jr., the smaller size version that’s great for kids, pets and gift wrapping.

Phone lines are open… call now.

Side effects include gummy mouth, sticky skin and asphyxiation. Do not use if pregnant or allergic to tape.

Just Means Well or Well, Just Mean?

Like you, I follow a lot of weight loss blogs. Recently, I found myself in a position I hadn’t been in since I started this little blogging adventure. I was over at Who Ate My Blog?, a journal from a very big guy trying to get his act together. Anyway, I read a posting there and just about snapped…

Well, I had another bad food weekend. First, Friday's supper was a double cheeseburger and fries from Chris Z's by St. Vincent's Hospital. Saturday was good except for a 1/2 big bag of chex mix that I ate along with a small bag of trail mix. Then the biggie on Sunday: Lunch I had a double Milo burger, large fries, 2 honey mustard, large sweet tea, and a large snicker blast from Sonic. Then, to to finish the weekend, Sunday's supper was a double cheeseburger and a large loaded fries from Rally's.

It was a very high calorie weekend, but I will knock out a good week. My friend Kevin B sent some advice via email, and I agree with him. He said that I must drink water, and I am getting bored eating the same thing every day. I have got to change things up, but I don't know what to change up to.

My exercise is going well. I am swimming half a mile three days a week. It takes me about 30 - 40 minutes to complete, which is very slow, but I am able to continuously swim the entire time. It's funny that I feel fine after swimming, but once I get to my truck, I am completely exhausted. I am feeling stronger in my arms and legs. It feels good.

Hopefully I can do some walking this week. Last week I was pretty busy at work.

I am learning that this weight loss stuff is a constant battle. My biggest enemy is myself (no pun intended) My sense of humor is still intact.

Ultimately it's my decision what goes in my mouth, and how much I move my ass.

I'm optimistic about next week. I plan on posting everyday, drinking a lot of water, and moving my ass.


I actually ran the numbers on these foods and couldn’t believe my eyes. I thought back on my own weekend, where I had struggled to make good choices and had battled my inner demons at least to a draw.

Usually when I post comments, I try to stay positive and upbeat, but what can you honestly say when you read something like that?

“Don’t worry about it, dude?

“Better luck next week?”

“Would you like fries with that?”

I wrote a couple of comments, erased them, and finally went with this response:


Jack Sh*t, Gettin' Fit said...

Stephen, I'm just sitting here at my desk shaking my head in disbelief. I just looked up the calories and the fat content of your weekend binge and it just about made me physically ill. I lost count, but I think on Saturday, you consumed over 500% of your daily requirement in saturated fat (and keep in mind, those requirements are really kind of inflated). Dude, I'm channeling my inner Oprah here, but you better check yourself before you wreck yourself.

You can swim like Flipper, but meals like that will undo all that work in a heartbeat.

Here's the good news: you're being honest here about what you're consuming. If you're serious about this, I mean really, really serious, you've got to find a way to get weekends under control. Lock your keys up, hide your wallet, something.

BTW, be careful with the chex mix and trail mix. They're not terrible snacks, in small portions. The nutritional info is based on a single ounce. Big guys (like us) seldom stop at one ounce. Also, the sodium will keep you retaining water, again not a recipe for weight loss.

I'm rooting for you, Stephen. I really am.

I knew that even my more toned down response might be crossing the line. After all, I don’t really know this guy. Who is it for me to get all up in his face? Anyway, I got a reaction from him…

Jack Shit:

I don't know what to think or feel about your comment.

On one hand, I agree with you. On the other hand I feel you could have been more tactful in your comment.

If what I say or do makes you physically ill, you might need to read another blog. There are millions of weight loss blogs out there.

I understand what you're trying to say, and I'm working on things. It's not easy nor fun.
It downright fucking sucks, and I feel bad enough about myself without people telling me they got physically ill because they sat down and read about what I ate.

I know your heart's in the right place, and I don't take criticism very well (if you can't tell)

Please stick around and let's see how this thing ends.


In my own weight loss journey, I feel like time’s a-wasting. I want these pounds gone, like, el pronto. I just don’t have time for setbacks, bad days or, apparently, tact. Here’s my response:

Jack Sh*t, Gettin' Fit said...

Firstly, I wasn't trying to offend you. You're absolutely correct that I could have, should have been more tactful, but here's the deal, bubba: I think you're in need of some tough love.

This journey you're on is about changing habits and accountability. If you're not ready in your own head to own up to your actions, then I honestly don't think you stand a chance at success.

Listen, Stephen: I'm not some featherweight that doesn't know what it's like to down a couple of double cheeseburgers and go back for more an hour later. I've never been where you are today, but I've been on the road heading that way.

I don't know you and you don't know me; all I can tell you is that I have nothing but the highest hopes that you achieve every goal you've set for youself. If you want me following your story, I'll celebrate with you at every milestone, encourage you through every misstep and when you tell me you plowed through 10,000 calories in a single day, I will jump on you from the top rope.

You're right, there are a million weight loss blogs out there. Say the word and I'll take my fat ass someplace else.

And lastly, it's Jack Sh*t, not Jack Shit.

Gave a good day.

We actually traded a couple more messages, but that’s the gist of the tale right there. My question: do we owe it each other to be honest with our comments? This is an extreme example, to be sure, but is there a place on these blogs for a little tough love? I don’t know about yours, but there certainly is room on mine.

Food for thought.

There You Half It

All my life, I’ve always been a clean-your-plate kind of guy. No matter what was on it, no matter how much was on it, I always managed to bring a spic-and-span finality to every meal I sat down to. Maybe it’s just me… maybe it’s the American way… maybe it’s the plate’s fault somehow.

Whatever the reason, that’s a habit that I knew that I just needed to shake. What I’ve tried to do these days is really take a hard look at the food I put on my plate. For example, last night I cooked a couple of tuna steaks; in the past, I’d have thought nothing of eating an entire piece. Recently I’ve started trying to start my meal with half the portion I’d normally had dished out, with the idea that I can get more if I really want it. It shocks me how often the half-sies get the job done (and I get to clean my plate like I like).

For me, eating is as much mental as it is a mechanism for fueling my body. By looking at my food–I mean, really looking at it–I think I’m finally starting to see it more clearly than ever before.

Blog Names I Considered But Thought Better Of

• For Whom the Belly Tolls
• Hittin’ Below the Belt
• Potbelly Blues
• Tummies for Dummies
• Husky Business
• Hey, I’m Fat…So What?
• Packing No Paunches
• He’s Not Heavy, He’s My Blogger
• The Great Plumpkin
• The Curious Case of Benjamin Glutton
• Obese City
• Westminister Flabby
• Roly-Poly Rigamorolly
• The Out-and-Out Stout Shout-Out
• The Butterball Express
• The Lard Yard
• The Rotund-a
• Starving for Attention
• Crusin’ for a Losin’

There are some pretty out-there blog names out there in the weight loss blogosphere. If I accidently included the name of your blog in my list, well, what can I say: great minds think alike.

I Don't Like to Brag, But..

I’ve noticed that several of the bloggers I follow have been awarded fancy little geegaws to stick on their blog site. Well, I’m proud to announce that I was recently recognized for my own contributions to the weight loss community. All I can say is “It’s about time!”

Me & My Scale, Gettin’ It On

Mid-week weigh-in: 265.7
Loss: 2.4 lbs
1-week loss: 6.1 lbs.
Total loss: 24.8 lbs.
Emotion: Passionate

After last Sunday’s weigh-in, my scale and I had a long, frank discussion. It was a serious affair, kind of like when I sat my daughters down and talked to them about sex (only this time I didn’t pass out). Some of the words used were not too friendly, and I won’t include them here because I don’t want to offend (plus I’m running out of *’s).

The gist of it all is that we agreed that if I keep doing my part… eating right, gettin’ my exercise on, drinking my aqua… that it would reward me with some numbers that would put a smile on my kisser.

Now if you could excuse us, my scale and I would like to be alone...

The Raven-ous

Once upon a morning fleeting, I was pondering what I was eating,
Logging in my early meal’s caloric score
I was finally able to finagle, how many carbs were in that bagel,
When suddenly there came a rapping, rapping on my kitchen door.
“'Tis my wife,” I softly muttered. “Returning from the grocery store.
Only this, and nothing more.”

I put down my bread (unbuttered), “Honey, is that you?” I uttered,
“Do you need some help with the groceries that you purchased at the store?”
Then a awful chill shot through me, when it suddenly came to me
That this rapping wasn’t from my spouse returning from the store.
In the window was the blackest, fattest bird I’ve seen before,
And he chirped out: “Eat some more.”

I gazed down at my morning spread, which had not left me well-fed.
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I’m on a diet, (and it appears that you should try it),
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my kitchen door.
Are you some mysterious beast that came from mythological lore?”
Quoth the raven: “Eat some more.”

So I flung open the pantry wide, to find the delicious food inside,
I grabbed cookies, cakes and crackers, then I scoured the shelves for more
Pop-Tarts, pretzels filled my arms: half a box of Lucky Charms,
I laid it all out on the table, rich and tasty snacks galore.
And perched at the window, just beside the kitchen door,
Laughed the raven: “Eat some more.”

Then this ebony bird beguiling (I could swear that he was smiling),
As he stared upon the table laden down with foodstuffs by the score
How did my morning meal turn into something so surreal?
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me why you want me eating, why do you put my will to war?
Quoth the raven, “Eat some more.”

Well, that devil, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
Sitting patiently and waiting right beside my kitchen door;
And he wants to see me cheating, only happy when I’m eating
And he’ll always be beside me no matter how much I ignore.
But my heart and soul are stronger than they’ve ever been before
And I shall be tempted - Nevermore!

apologies to Edgar Allen Poe

It’s Hard Out There for a Plump(er)

Let’s face it: the world doesn’t particularly care for the oversized among us.

We celebrate the skinny, design our fashions for the featherweights and equate beanpoles with beauty.

And it’s not just about trendy apparel and how we idolize our slender celebrities. There’s a real cost to our issues with weight.

Weight discrimination, especially against women, is increasing in U.S. society and is almost as common as racial discrimination, some studies have suggested*.

I’ve had a couple of big weight loss/gain swings in my lifetime. The first time I lost a bunch, I interviewed for and got a job at an ad agency owned by a former beauty queen. Thinking back on it today, I know that I wouldn’t have gotten the job had I been at the weight I was six months before that interview. I don’t just think so… I know it with a complete and utter certainty. It’s important because it’s the job that started my current career path; without it, I’d be living a very different life today, I’m sure.

People judge us when we’re overweight. They think we have no self-respect, no discipline, no self-control. I hate it, but I know… we know… that’s the way it is.

That’s why I enjoy, appreciate…even crave the support I receive in this kooky blogging community. The world may not be there for us, but we can always be there for each other.


*Reported discrimination based on weight has increased 66% in the past decade, up from about 7% to 12% of U.S. adults, according to the journal Obesity. The other study, in the International Journal of Obesity, says such discrimination is common in both institutional and interpersonal situations — and in some cases is even more prevalent than rates of discrimination based on gender and race. (About 17% of men and 9% of women reported race discrimination.)