Scaling the Mountain

There is a mountain in front of you, seemingly as big as all the world.

There it is, right there in the distance, and you want to… you need to… climb it.

But as you look at the task in front of you, it just seems so very daunting.

The hardest part may be accepting the fact that you actually can do it. I mean, it’s a freakin’ mountain, for God’s sake.  Most people will only ever make half-hearted efforts at conquering it, if that…



Even as you're striding forward, the idea of just how challenging and tiresome it will be sometimes gets the better of you. That summit is so high, and you have so very far to go...



And sometimes you get going, maybe even start up the mountain at a mad dash, but the reality is that mountain-climbing isn’t for the frail or faint-hearted. It’s hard damn work, and it requires planning, patience and persistence, as well as the right set of tools.


And it doesn't happen overnight, I'm very sorry to say.

And sometimes…check that… almost always, there are periods when we give up ground.

Backsliding… as frustrating as that is… is a natural part of the climb.

And all your can do is smile, pick yourself up, brush yourself off and then start making your way back up the mountain.

Well, technically, you don’t have to smile, but that makes the rest of it more bearable.

I don’t know where you are on your climb, if you’re just getting started or approaching the peak, but I salute your courage and commitment.

You’ve taken on a challenge bigger than yourself, and I wish you a safe and successful journey.

“Why? Why, why, why do I do this???”

Chuck Pratt on mountain climbing

This Little Diet of Mine

This little diet I’m on,
It’s just barely begun.
This little diet I’m on,
I’m gonna lose a ton
This little diet I’m on,
Can’t eat a honey bun.
Honey bun.
Honey bun.
Honey bun.

Eat a whole buncha broccoli? Yeah!
That’s sure on my diet.
How about some brussel sprouts? Yeah.
I’m sure that’ll be all right.
What about some fondue? No!
That’s why my pants’re too tight.
Pants too tight.
Pants too tight.
Pants too tight.

This little diet of mine,
I’m hungry all the time.
This little diet of mine,
Waistline on the decline.
This little diet of mine,
Hey, I’m feeling fine.
Feelin’ fine.
Feelin’ fine.
Feelin’ fine.

Not gonna snack around all day,
And eat as much as a horse.

Not gonna veg out and watch TV
(Except Thursday nights, of course).
Not gonna settle for less than my best,
Gonna be a tour de force.
Tour de force.
Tour de force.
Tour de force.
 



This little diet I do,
Just watching what I chew.
This little diet I do,
Got me feeling brand new.
This little diet I do,
You can do it, too.
Do it, too.
Do it, too.
Do it, too.

Cookbooks That Probably Shouldn’t Be On Your Bookshelf

Say Hello to My Little Fryer – The Scarface Cookbook

Girls Just Wanna Have Fudge!

Say It With Poundcake!

Stogielicious! - Cooking with Cigars

Recipes with Too Much Bacon

Cupcakes for Dinner Again

That’s Got Quite a Tang to It – The NASA Cookbook

Cotton Candy Casserole and Other Carnival Favorites

The Crisco Kid Rides Again

Eggnog- It’s Not Just For Christmas Anymore!

More Cheese, Please!

Open Wide and Say “Ahhhhh!” - Cooking with Nitrous Oxide

That Hits The Spot! – 101 Dalmation Recipes

Speaking of dogs... and cookbooks... 

My pal Vee is putting together a cookbook project to help raise money for an autism therapy/seizure-response dog for her son, and she needs your help!

Click here for all the details.

Day One

Return of the Funky Monk

Weekly weigh-in: 225.9
Loss: -5.2
Total loss: -66.0
Emotion: Full of faith

I’ll admit it:  I was a trifle exasperated at my lack of success on the weigh-in front. I seem to have undone a lot of hard work over the last few months, so I finally decided to go a little medieval on my diet-and-exercise plan.

I perused my archives, trying to tap into a little bit of the spark and spirit that powered loss after loss after loss.

What did I discover? That I do my best when I throw myself into the deep end… when I commit fully and unreservedly. Yes,

So this week, I channeled my inner weight-loss warrior.

The result?

Not a slurp of soda.

Not a sip of coffee.

Not a swig of beer.

Not a drop of wine.

Eating (mostly) on plan.

Exercising like a bat out of Hell.

And a five-pound loss.

I don’t plan on living my entire life like a monk…

But I figure it doesn’t hurt to dine at the monastery for a while.

Jackie Be Good

Way back in days gone by, ‘bout two years ago,
My weight was way up, my self-respect too low.
I stood there at the mirror wearing pants that didn’t fit,
In case you haven’t guessed, my name was Jackie F. Sh*t…
I never ever learned to eat the kind of foods I should,
They knew me at every restaurant in the neighborhood.
 


Go, Go,
Go Jackie Go,
Go
 Go Jackie Go Go 

Go Jackie Go Go
Go Jackie Go Go

Jackie going out to eat.

I used to carry a lunch in my trusty Ziploc.
Snarfed it up and was hungry again by 10 o’oclock.
Oh, my co-workers used to see me sitting in my car,
Gobbling pizza, bag of chips and a Milky Way bar
People used to say while I was stuffing my face,
"Man, at least don't park in the handicapped space!"

 Go, Go,
Go Jackie Go, Go
Go Jackie Go Go 

Go Jackie Go Go
Go Jackie Go Go

Jackie, go on a diet.



Today I'm doing better, I'm a brand new man,
Eating healthy chow and exercising all I can.
I can put on running shoes and go for many a mile.
When I step on the scale, I've got good reason to smile.
I hope you’ll join me on my quest today,
Just like Jackie, be good, okay?
 


Go Go
Go Jackie Go
Go Go Go Go Jackie Go
Go Go Go Go Jackie Go
Go Go Go Go Jackie Go
Go Jackie be good.

Bully for You

Give me your lunch money.

I’m serious, give it to me now or I will punch you in the neck.

I’ve tried humoring you, tried inspiring you, tried pushing you.

Now, I’m resorting to bullying to get you to do better with this losing weight/living healthier poopah.

I am your belly bully.

Give me your lunch money.

You’d just spend it on some fast-food combo meal deal anyway.

Fork it over.

You might squander it at one of those squirt-it-yourself, add-your-own-topping, “What-do-you-mean-fourteen-dollars-for-a-cup?” frozen yogurt joints.

Gimme, gimme, gimme.

It takes a big man to… ummmm… well, be a bully, but I’m a big man and I have years of practice from Kindergarten until somebody caught up with me in size in 5th grade.

So anyway, give me your lunch money and we won’t have any problems.

And I’m serious about that throat punch.

Grrrrrrr.

More Signs It’s Gonna Be a Bad Weigh-in…

• Starbucks opens new location in your living room


• Lost track of daily Weight Watcher points at 1,000,000

• 
You accidentally poured yourself a tall glass of maple syrup


• Waitress thought you said “side of beef” instead of “side salad”

• 
Realized you’ve been brushing your teeth with a tube of frosting all week


• That 10K run you did every day no longer so impressive since you realized that you’ve mixed up “kilometers” and “millimeters” again


•  Somebody brought donuts to the office... then held you down and forced you to eat a half dozen

• You were a guest at a dinner party at Paula Deen's house


• You had birthday cake six days this week (three days at birthday parties and three days when you were just really hungry for birthday cake)


• Scale showing 10 lbs before you even step on


• You ate black cat for dinner last night

If this wasn't enough Sh*t for you today,
check out my guest post over at
Dr. Fitness & The Fat Guy.

You Are Dead

Sorry to break the bad news to you, but you’re dead.

I know… bummer.

And don’t ask me how you died. It’s really too painful to talk about (even though it did make everybody at the bar laugh hysterically).

Anyway… ummm, where was I? Oh yeah… you’re dead.

It’s sad… your death… but you don’t have to take a glass-half-empty view of these developments. Look on the bright side: this is an ideal opportunity to celebrate your accomplishments and write a proper ending to the story of your life.

What will they say about you as they gather to pay their last respects? What is the indelible mark that you left on this landscape called Life?

Before you hem and haw and struggle to come up with a suitable answer, here’s a shocker: you’re not really dead.

I know, pinch yourself. You’re really alive.

But I would like you to spend a few minutes thinking about your life and your legacy.

Have you accomplished everything you’ve set out to accomplish?

The average life expectancy is 78.3 years; how much longer do you realistically have?

And what are you waiting for?

Dying for more?

I'm continuing on this morbid
discussion when I moderate tonight's
Fitblog chat tonight at 9pmET.
Click here for all the details.

Weight Watchers CEO For A Day

Most likely, I will never be CEO of Weight Watchers.

Oh, I might have been if, during the interview, I hadn't answered the “What do you consider to be your greatest weakness?” question by saying “Probably my inability to quit stealing office supplies to sell in my eBay store.” Stupid HR managers and their trick questions...



But I can dream, can’t I? I can think about what changes I might institute were I given the big office...


• Would challenge R&D department to come up with negative calorie food that (a) isn't celery and (b) doesn't taste like celery.

• Change Weight Watcher online to include more pictures of cute kittens.

• Would change name of “points” to “fun units” because... well, just because.

• Would install pole in office that you could slide down into secret workout facility/tv-watching room.

• Would declare Funyuns to be a “fun unit-free” food.


• Would have all employees wear Star Trek uniforms because of how slim they make you look; do you realize that Mr. Spock weighed nearly 400 pounds?

• Would have stipulation in Jennifer Hudson's endorsement contract that she has to call me each evening and softly sing “Go to Sleep, Little Baby” to me as I drift off.


• Reinstate pre-meeting round of sugar-free Jell-O shots.

• Go all “Fight Club” on Jared from Subway.


• Add addendum to official rulebook: If people wanna weigh in in the buff, by God, I say they can weigh in in the buff.


• All WW leaders would be instructed to close each meeting with a reading from Jack Sh*t, Getting’ Fit.

This is Courage

Weekly weigh-in: 231.1
Loss: +1.3
Total loss: -60.8
Emotion: Compelled

There’s this story about an Oxford philosophy exam, see?

The test requires an 8-page essay answer backed up with source material, quotes and analytical reasoning.

So anyway, this one guy turns in a single sheet with a single sentence on it…

“This is courage.”

He received top marks.

I really wish there was a creative, easy way to ace this whole weight-loss exam, because the long, drawn-out version filled with ups and downs, successes and setbacks… well, it’s enough to make you want to just walk out of the classroom in a frustrated fit.

There are no easy answers.

No three-word solutions.

It’s time to get to work.

W.I.D.T.H. A Little Help From My Friends

 

There are seemingly a million reasons why we're on this journey, from the frivolous to the serious, from fun and games to life and death. Some of us want it for ourselves and others for those around us. Some because they want more out of this life and some because they expect more out of themselves. What's your reason? What drives you down this path to living a more healthy life? What's your motivation?

That's not a rhetorical question, dumbass! Jot down your answer on a card, a scrap of paper, your hand... and find some way to electronically deliver it to jacksh.tgettinfit@gmail.com. Be sure to include a blog link if you'd like it included.

You keep 'em coming and I'll keep 'em coming...

 

 Jeremy @ Stellar Path

Shelly @ I Used to Be a Person

 

Rachel P.

 Dre @ Drastically Decreasing Downsizing Dre

Pam @ 482gr8

Emily @ Emily a la Blog

Jessica @ Food For Thought

Sarah @ One Year, 1.5 Pounds Per Week, A Day at a Time

Tammy @ From Fat To Fab

Jenn @ Watch My Butt Shrink!

Wicked Britches

I am haunted by fat pants.

Hibernating on the top shelf on my closet.

Laid to rest in a large Tupperware tomb deep within my attic.

Waiting, waiting, waiting.

Besides having no style, fat pants have no mercy, no memory, no pride.

Their elastic waistbands whisper: “We’ll take you as you are.”

Their oversized seat assures: “We’ll always be here for you.”

In the past, I have ditched britches as fast as I could lay claim to a smaller size. I thought I was burning the bridge behind me, but should have realized that the world is full of bridges, and crossing the gap back to those fat pants is as easy as… well… pie.

I’ve lost roughly 70 pounds in the last two years, but I’ve kept a most of those fat pants close by. I don’t hold on to them as a denim-and-khaki safety net, mind you; I keep them to provide a healthy dose of fear and reality to the task at hand.

I keep them as a constant reminder that what I do is a choice.

I can eat healthy and exercise… and wear the pants I have on right now.

I can stray from my purpose and my plan and revisit the ghosts of my past.

And my pants.

Sh*twick the Big-Bottomed Goof

Up at Lake Titticaca… the far Northern shores.
He was sitting there eating his fourth and fifth s’mores.
His “sample” had turned into a big crazy binge,
And his jaw was about to come off of its hinge.

Then it happened that Sh*twick, that overweight fellow,
Frowned with his mouth sticky from the marshmallow.
Because a face started to form there in the fire,
A face that hadn’t been there two minutes prior.
“Hello,” the face said.
“Why not stop eating, Sh*twick?”
Put down those graham crackers,
Marshmallows and choc-lick.
They’re a surefire way to get way too-big quick!”

“I’m drunk” laughed ol’ Sh*twick, the big-bottomed goof.
He gazed at the beer cooler as if looking for proof.
“Campfires have no mouthhole.”
You’re just talkin’ trash, troll.
So just cool your jets, you fiery ash-hole!”
But as Sh*twick sat there with his s’mores and his beer,
The campfire continued in a voice loud and clear.

“Well,”
The fire said, “You can joke and/or mock.
With your gut full of beer and your mouth full of choc.
But I’m here to tell you your life is in peril,
And things will get worse if you don’t be more careful.
It’s time to get going, you’re not getting younger.
It’s time to do something to curb your mad hunger.
And get a few wins in your battle with blubber.”

“You are right,” said ol’ Sh*twick.
“It’s time I took a chance.
Time for my horizons to be broadened
Instead of my pants.”

Ol’ Sh*twick agreed there in the outdoors,
Then proceeded to prepare a couple more s’mores.
“Tomorrow I’ll do well, I’ll start being more good.
I’ll exercise more and work out like I should.”

“Tomorrow?” The fire snorted, and grew even bigger.
“You’ve a gun at your head and you’re right on the trigger.
Don’t put it off, Sh*twick, that’s what I say.
It’ll be no easier tomorrow than it will be today.”

The fire grew larger,
Up over his head.
“Commitment’s like wildfire!”
That’s what he said,
In a voice sharp as barb wire.
Before he got burnt,
He looked down at his cookie.
Sh*twick couldn’t possibly do this.
Or could he?

Tomorrow?
No, Sh*twick.
Decidedly not.
It was time now to get busy or get off of the pot.
It’s true that things here were incredibly hot.
Now he remembered what he knew to be real.
About how awesome good health can feel.
Today is the day.
Sh*twick knew in his heart.
Today’s the best day you can possibly start.
He vowed to make this one his very best year,
Then put out the fire (with recycled beer).

“I have my own fire.
It burns deep inside.
To help on my quest to live my life less wide.”

And he wadded those s’mores up with the rest of the trash.
He buried them deep beneath still-smoldering ash.
And got himself ready for a big weight-loss clash.

HIS LIFE HAS BEEN CHANGED
SINCE THE HEAT HAS BEEN TURNED UP.
And with the help of that fire,
All those pounds have been burned up.

More Dr. Seuss/Jack Sh*t combos? 
Check out here, here, here, here and here.

Pros and Cons of Losing Weight

Pro: You feel better and wake up each day with more energy and vitality.
Con: You no longer get full value at all-you-can-eat buffet.

Pro: Can run several miles without stopping.
Con: Used to be able to fall to sleep more easily (basically, any time you sat down)

Pro: Don’t have to buy strangely branded clothes in plus-size stores.
Con: Lot of coupons for Hostess snack products just sitting there going to waste.

Pro: Blood pressure and cholesterol numbers reduced.
Con: Gravy no longer available at every meal.

Pro: Prevention of Type 2 diabetes.
Con: Require more water when you take a bath.

Pro: Probability that you’ll live longer.
Con: More stinky laundry from workout wear.

Pro: Less self-conscious at the beach.
Con: Constant compliments about how good you look might start to make you feel uncomfortable.

Pro: Better *boom chaka boom boom*
Con: Ass groove in sofa might no longer be quite as comfortable.

Pro: No longer disgusted when you see my reflection in mirror.
Con: Miss relationship you had with guy that owns Chinese restaurant on the corner.

Pro: Fun trying to get to the end of the treadmill.
Con: No more fun trying to get to the end of Olive Garden’s "Bottomless Breadstick Basket".

Pro: Fewer health problems.
Con: Have kick-ass health insurance program and no opportunity to use it.

You're Invited...

As God Is My W.I.D.T.H.ness...

Tell me something... why are you on this journey?
Who are you doing it for?
What's keeping your head in the game?
Boil it down to a note card (or a reasonable fascimile) and send it to jacksh.tgettinfit@gmail.com (be sure to include a blog addy if you want it included). 

 

Misty @ Life Off the D List

Laurie @ Obsessed? Check. Compulsive? Check. Disorder? Nah...