Sunday, December 30, 2012

The Big Jack Healthy Mountain

One evening as the sun went down,
My tummy started hurtin’

Downed too many chips with too many beers,

Ate way too much, I’m certain.
Now I’m headed for a place that’s far away

It’s a Fountain-of-Youth Fountain.
So come with me, time to break free

On the Big Jack Healthy Mountain.

On the Big Jack Healthy Mountain,
Your pants don’t get too tight, 

Where fresh fruit grows on bushes,

And you sleep well every night.

Where the calories are never empty,

And you’re focused every day.

Work your lats and your knees

And you eat cottage cheese.
Lemonade’s sugar-free
It’s a great place to be,

The Big Jack Healthy Mountain.

On the Big Jack Healthy Mountain,

All the folks have nice lean legs,

And they’ve taken all the cholesterol

Out of every kind of eggs.
The evening meals are good and fresh,
And your future’s full of life.

Oh, I’m bound to go

Where there’s no plateau.

When you hop on the scale

It’s a brand-new low,

On the Big Jack Healthy Mountain.

On the Big Jack Healthy Mountain,

You wear spandex pants to work.

And you’re friendly to everyone around
(Even if they are a jerk).
You do a workout in the mornin’,
Go for a run each afternoon.
Eat a healthy stew,

And a salad, too,

And keep doing the best

That you can do,

On the Big Jack Healthy Mountain.

On the Big Jack Healthy Mountain,
Running shoes never wear out
You’re satisfied from eating
Just a single Brussel sprout.

There’s no such thing as cheesecake,
It’s all health every day.  

I’m bound to stay

Where you run each day,
Where your final fate
Is you’re at goal weight.
On the Big Jack Healthy Mountain.


I’ll see you all on this long haul

On the Big Jack Healthy Mountain.

Friday, December 28, 2012

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.

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?

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.

And with the help of that fire,
All those pounds have been burned up.

Thursday, December 27, 2012

Back on the Strip...

Our story actually begins here if you're a glutton for punishment...

Mr. Dithers: So anyway, this guy at my office is eating pizza and chili and these huge sandwiches and he never… I mean, he NEVER gains a pound. And he’s got a hot wife. It’s not fair!

Jack: Do you have any other employees? I mean, you complain about this one guy all the time. Why not just fire him if he bugs you so much?

ou should just keep giving him extra assignments until he quits.

Ummmmm… is this the meeting of…um… fat… comic strip characters?

You’re in the right place. Take off your pointy hat and pull up a chair, Mister…

Hagar: Hagar the Horrible.

Okay, this is Mister Dahorrible. Welcome to T.O.O.N…. Toons Overcoming Obesity Now. And, ummmm… Mister Dahorrible? We don’t really like to label anybody ‘fat’.

Fat Chick:

Well, except Fat Chick there from that caveman strip… you know, Fat Chick? That really just feels wrong…

Well, I’m perfectly happy the way I am, but my wife has been giving me some grief lately.

Ziggy: Happiness doesn't depend on how much you have to enjoy ... but how much you enjoy what you have!

Fat Albert:
I’m about to beat yo bald ass!

Sgt Snorkel:
Can we get rid of the gang-banger already?

Fat Albert:
Oh, you think 'cuz I’m African-American I gotta be in a gang?

Walt Duncan:
Well, there are seventeen black kids waiting for you out by the street.

Fat Albert:
Those are the Cosby Kids, bitch.

Settle down, let’s get back to Mr Dither’s problem...

Mr. Wilson:
What about the fact that my wife is constantly baking cookies for the brat next door? My house smells like cookies 24/7!

Jack: Excuse me, Cathy? Roger? What’s are you two giggling about?

Charlie Brown: They’re watching youtube videos of me trying to kick a football.

Roger: *snicker* …
she pulls it away… right when… he goes… to *snicker*  kick it…

It’s just… *snicker* … mean.

Jack: Good health is kind of like that, isn’t it? I mean, we get so excited to see positive results, and then…

Charlie Brown:

Ummmm, I think I’m gonna head out now…

Okay, but you’re welcome to come back anytime. Remember our motto…


Wednesday, December 26, 2012

You Will Thank Me Later

I'm just not sure that I do enough to help you on this arduous weight-loss journey of yours.

Oh sure... I blog quite a bit, and I try to pass on as much good (and bad) advice as I possibly can.

But I think I can have more of an impact on belping you achieve your goals, and starting today, I'm going to do it! My plan?
  • I take a hammer to every snack product in your pantry
  • I stand behind you and scream “Fatass!” every time you pick up a piece of candy
  • I squirt pepper spray in your face when every time you eat a chimichanga
  • I spraypaint your car windows black so you can’t see any fast-food joints while you’re driving around town
  • I leave a six-minute voicemail on your cell phone that’s just me repeating “Go to the gym!” over and over
  • I give you a wedgie every time you start to eat cheese
  • I carry around my “lucky funnel” for when you forget to drink your water
  • I padlock your fridge every night at 8 p.m.
  • I host a “Oreo intervention” for you and invite all your friends and co-workers
  • I sit in the back seat and sing “I’m Henry the Eighth, I am… Henry the Eighth, I am, I am…” whenever you eat in the car
  • I slam my grocery cart into your grocery cart every time you try to buy cookies
  • I call the pizza place where you just ordered delivery and ask them to add “toenail clippings” all over the top
  • I weld the change slot shut on the vending machine in your office
  • I spit in your can of Pepsi
  • I replace your ranch dressing with Elmer’s Glue
  • Whenever you go three days without blogging, I call you up and blow a whistle into the phone

Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Sunday, December 23, 2012

Every Time a Bell Rings, An Angel Loses a Pound

Once upon a time, there was a guy named Jack Sh*tley who had lost a tremendous amount of weight over the course of a couple of years. However, Jack still wasn’t very happy with the progress he was making.

Then one snowy night, he was jogging along across the Sh*tford Falls bridge when the figure of an older gentleman came plummeting down past him and into the freezing, choppy water below.


“Help!” the man screamed pitifully. “Help! Help!”

“Hey,” yelled Jack. “Are you okay?”

“No,” yelled the old man. “Aren’t you going to jump in and save me?”

“Not so much,” answered Jack, fumbling with his phone. “I’m trying to call for help, but I can’t seem to find 9-1-1 in my Contacts.”

“For Heaven’s sake,” said the old man, levitating up out of the water and onto the bridge. “You were supposed to jump in and save me so I can save you.”

“Save me?” asked Jack.

“My name is Clarence Goodbody,” said the man, bowing slightly. “I’m an angel.”

“You don’t have any wings,” noted Jack.

“Well, you don't have... um... a very good fashion sense,” snapped Clarence. “Anyway, I heard that your unhappy with the progress you’re making on your weight loss journey.”

“Yeah, I’m … hey how did you know about that?” asked Jack incredulously. “Do you have supernatural powers?”

“I read your blog, dumbass,” snorted Clarence. “You think we don’t have the internet in Heaven?”

“I guess I’ve been feeling a little disappointed in myself lately.”

“Well, I’ve come to give you a special gift,” smiled Clarence. “The gift of seeing what your world would be like if you hadn’t lost that weight.”

“I don’t need to see…”

“There, there,” smiled Clarence. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“I wasn’t thank… hey,” frowned Jack, whose body was ballooning up instantly. A button flew off his pants and his belly suddenly lapped out over his belt. A row of chins sprung up under his mouth like waves.

“I know you didn’t just do what I think you just did,” mumbled Jack.

“Look, can we go somewhere and talk about this?” asked Clarence. “My clothes are soaking wet and I’m freezing my angel ass off here.”

They made their way to a nearby restaurant and sat at the bar.

“I’m thinking of a flaming rum punch. No that’s not it…,” said Clarence to the waiter.  “Nachos! That’s it! Heavy on the guacamole and light on the jalepenos. Now off with you, my good lad...”

“Nachos?” snapped Jack. “I can’t eat nachos, you nutjob.”

“But look at yourself,” said Clarence. “Looks like you could eat an entire platter of them in one sitting.”

“Well, I used to eat a lot of stuff,” sneered Jack.

“And look at all the things you can do now,” smiled Clarence. “You can run for miles and miles.”

“And kilometers,” noted Jack.

“You can play games with your daughters and dart around in basketball games with the young dudes.”

“It’s great,” agreed Jack.

“You no longer shop in the Big and Fat and Tall shops.”

“I miss paying a premium for shoddily made duds,” nodded Jack.

“And your blog is read by lots of people,” said Clarence.


Lots of people,” repeated Clarence. “And now I need you to do something for me, Jack.”

“What’s that, angel-boy?”

“I need you to run a mile,” said Clarence somberly. “You see, every time a mile is run, an angel gets his wings.”

“Are you sure about that?” asked Jack.

“Go, son,” said Jack, pushing Jack. “Run like the wind.”

“But… the nachos!”


Jack lumbered his large frame off the stool and headed out. The cold night wind slapped him across the face, but he started jogging toward the road. He was out of breath before his fourth footfall.

“Clarence! Clarence! Help me, Clarence!” Jack screamed out into the night sky. “Get me back! Get me back, I don't care what happens to me! Get me back to my old body! Help me Clarence, please! Please! I wanna run again. I wanna run again. Please, God, let me run again.

Suddenly, his wife Anita was shaking Jack's shoulder.

“Hey, Jack! Jack!” said Anita. “You all right? Hey, what's the matter?”

“Now get outta here, Bert, or I'll hit you again!” moaned Jack groggily. “Get outta here!”

“What the Sam hell you yellin' for, Jack?” asked Anita. “And why did I say ‘What the Sam hell’”?

“Anita?” smiled Jack. “Do you know me?”

Know you?” asked Anita incredulously. “Huh. You kiddin'? I’ve been yellin’ at you for 45 minutes to come help me fold the laundry - hey, you’re wearing your running shoes. Are you sure you're all right?”

“Ha, ha, ha, ha! I’m wearing my running shoes, Anita! My running shoes! Pisa’s petals... Pisa...,” exclaimed Jack, checking the pockets of his sweatpants. “They are! Anita, what do you know about that! Merry Christmas!”

And with that, Jack took off running down the street, yelling “Merry Christmas!” to all his stunned and surprised neighbors. He ran and ran and ran and ran.

And somewhere, above it all, Clarence got himself a fresh pair of wings.

Saturday, December 22, 2012

Losing Weight is Like Writing to Santa

  • Anyone can do it
  • Being greedy isn’t a recipe for success
  • Some people need a little help getting it started
  • You feel better once it’s done
  • The possibilities are limitless
  • Your’s is different than everyone else’s
  • Helps if you write down all the things you want
  • If you can’t stop being naughty, you probably shouldn’t even bother
  • Once you’ve done it, you have to continue being good
  • Sometimes you feel like it’s going nowhere
  • Just saying what you want doesn’t mean you’re going to get it
  • You really need to be good, not just say you’ve been good
  • It’s harder to do when you get older
  • You really should leave out cookies
  • It doesn’t work if you don’t believe

Friday, December 21, 2012

Healthy New Holiday Traditions

• Christmas caroling combined with 10K run

• Egg-substitute nog

• Banana Claus!

• Kale cut into Christmas cookie shapes

• Jingle kettlebells

• Fruitcake that doesn’t have any cake in it

• Mistletoe salad

• Raw nutcracker

• Eight maids a’lifting

• Nativity scene includes Wise Men on treadmills

• Kickboxing Day

• Gingerbread house made from melba toast, hummus and kalamata olives

Insert your own "Hide the Pickle" joke here

• Leave plate of celery sticks and carrots for Santa

• Three sets of Poinsettia-Ups

• Gather the family in the living room for It’s A Wonderful Workout

Thursday, December 20, 2012

There Is No Such Thing As a Free Honeybun

So there we were, my teenage daughter Pisa and I, on the road somewhere in Alabama, on the way to a holiday gathering of relatives.

“I’m gettin’ kind of sleepy,” I said. “Do you want to drive for a while?”

“I’m not sure they let 13-year-olds drive, dad…”

“Even in Alabama?”

“Fraid not,” she said. “Suck it up, buttercup.”

“I gotta coffee up then,” I told her, pulling off to the next truck stop we approached.

As I went to pay for my gas station crappuccino, the cashier pushed a packaged honeybun in my direction.

“No thanks,” I told her, sliding it back to her.

“No, you don’t understand, sugah,” she smiled, pushing it back towards me. “It’s free with a large coffee.”

“I’m not interested,” I grinned back at her, picking it up and slapping it back down on the counter.

“I ain’t kiddin’,” she repeated. “They’re havin’ one of them promotions where you get a free honeybun when you buy a large coffee.”

“I’m allergic,” I told her.

“You’re allergic to honeybuns?” she laughed. “Why, I ain’t never heard of anybody that was allergic to honeybuns!”

“It’s true,” I told her, taking my coffee and backing away from the counter. “Every time I eat one, I break out in fat.”

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Holiday Bad, Badder, Worstest...

BAD: You sample one of the Christmas cookies you’re baking.
BADDER: You wolf down all the cookies that don’t come out perfect.
WORSTEST: You sit in the kitchen floor and eat an entire bowl of batter.

BAD: You’ve succumbed to a peppermint bark addiction.
BADDER: While in line at Starbucks to get Peppermint Mocha Latte, you’re plotting route on your phone to the next closest Starbucks to get another Peppermint Mocha Latte.
WORSTEST: Doc informs you that your blood type is “O positively peppermint”.

BAD: You’ve drunk your weight in eggnog.
BADDER: You’ve thrown out all other food in your fridge so that you can keep more eggnog on hand.
Worstest: CNN does story about worldwide eggnog shortage and your name comes up repeatedly.

BAD: You had to poke a new hole in your belt.
BADDER: You wear sweatpants to Christmas Mass.
WORSTEST: You had to let out your Santa Claus costume.

BAD: You’ve got Advent calendar with Hershey kiss for each day in December.
BADDER: You’ve got Advent calendar with chocolate chip cookie for each day in December.
WORSTEST: You’ve got Advent calendar with cheeseball for each day in December.

BAD: You can’t stand up to watch entire holiday parade.
BADDER: Other carolers point out that your mouth is full of taffy.
WORSTEST: You go for sleigh ride and two horses keel over dead.

BAD: You popped a button.
BADDER: You ripped your pants.
WORSTEST: You broke Santa’s lap.

BAD:  You ate half a fruitcake.
BADDER: You chugged a quart of boiled custard.
WORSTEST: You ate the cookies your children left out for Santa… while they watched.

BAD: Pants are entirely too tight.
BADDER: You’ve had to cut the necks out of all your turtleneck sweaters.
WORSTEST: You can’t find a shawl that fits.

BAD: You’ve decided to put off your healthy living quest until the new year.
BADDER: Gym is so busy in January that you’ve decided to wait until it clears out some.
WORSTEST: Decided that 2013 can just go to hell. 

Monday, December 17, 2012

Weight Loss Christmas Carols

• I’m Dreaming of a Lite Christmas

• I Saw Mommy Eating Hershey Bars

• Rudolph, the Calorie-Tracking Reindeer

• The Not-So-Little Drummer Boy

• Santa Claus Is Coming to Town (for his Weight Watchers Meeting)

• I’m Eatin’ Nuttin’ for Christmas

Feliz Not-a-Carb

• It's So Close to Christmas (And I'm So Far From Goal Weight)

• Do You Eat What I Eat?

• Walkin’ in a Thinner Wonderland

• A Weigh in a Manger

• The Twelve Meals of Christmas

Sunday, December 16, 2012

The 5 “W’s” (and 1 “H”) of Weight Loss


 Jack Franklin Sh*t


Lost a little something-something over the past couple of weeks.


Here, there, everywhere.


 I told you, dumbass. Over the past couple of weeks!

Because this post would have been especially difficult to write had I gained 10 pounds.


Well, that’s always the question, isn’t it? I ate a little better, ate a little less, exercised a little more, sacrificed the health of my heart (I read that drinking red wine is good for your heart, and I am very, very, very committed to good heart health). I tried to stay accountable, tried to keep my head in the game.

This is a tough time of year to make any headway on weight-loss goals, BUT IT’S NOT IMPOSSIBLE!

Last weigh-in: 237.2 lbs.
Loss: -.6

Friday, December 14, 2012

A Few More Holiday Health Tips

• Replacing a cup of eggnog with a cup of cold skim milk saves 433 calories (the 343 calories of the eggnog plus the 90 calories of the cold skim milk after you spit it out in disgust and pour the rest down the drain).

• Technically, you don’t HAVE to eat the cookies your kids leave out for Santa.

• If you’re at a holiday party, stand inside one of those “Bubble Boy” bubbles to keep yourself from overdoing it at the appetizer table.

• You can make a healthy version of fruitcake by simply leaving out the “cake”.

• Ice skating burns over 400 calories per hour, so consider ice skating to work.

• When out celebrating, alternate alternate each drink with a glass of water; so if you have 75 cocktails, you should balance that out with 75 glasses of water.

• If you’re at a party, opt for the raw veggies instead of… HEY! YOU’RE NOT EVEN LISTENING TO ME, ARE YOU? COME ON!

• Christmas carol-thon.

• Trust the voice of experience: you can burn a LOT of calories running around trying to do all your Christmas shopping at Walgreen’s on Christmas Eve.

Thursday, December 13, 2012

Premature Jack-ulation

If you are reading this right now, that means that I’m already dead.

How did I die, you may ask.

Perhaps it was a whitewater rafting accident where I drowned trying to save a newborn baby who had fallen overboard as we shot over the rapids.

Perhaps I was crushed in a slow moving wave of molasses such as the one that struck during The Great Boston Molasses Tragedy of 1919 when an enormous molasses storage tank burst and molasses rushed through the streets at an estimated 35 mph, killing 21 and injuring 150.

Perhaps I met my fate one afternoon when I threw myself through a window trying to illustrate that the glass is unbreakable (but to my credit, the glass didn’t break; it simply popped out of the window frame!).

How I died isn’t really all that important, is it?

What matters… what is of utmost concern… is that I had the foresight to plan a post to run from beyond the grave. I planned it this way in order to remind you of the lessons I’ve learned along the way, here at the end of my blogging journey...

1. Find a lifestyle you can live with and... well... start living with it.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sloughed off, telling myself I’ll get back on the wagon tomorrow, next week, next month. Now is the time for action! Do it today because tomorrow is always a day away.

2. A body in motion stays in motion. It’s true in physics and it’s true it fitness-ics. Exercise today and tomorrow and, chances are, you’ll do it again the next day. Take the whole week off and, chances are, you’ll take the next one off as well. Get in a move groove!

3. There’s no excuse for making excuses. This isn’t a good time for you… I get that. News break: there’s never a good time. There’s always going to be stress and uncertainty, always going to be turmoil and tough times. Suck it up, buttercup! It could be worse. You could be dead like some people I could name…

4. Fall down seven times, get up eight. No, wait. I just double-checked the math and that’s definitely getting up one more time than is absolutely necessary. Disregard this pointer entirely.

5. You really can do this. I mean that; you really can do it. Though I’m not gonna be around anymore to prop you up and egg you on, I’m positive that you’ve got it in you to get this done. It will take time, effort and determination, but the rewards are oh-so worth it. I would say do it for me… for my dying wish… but really you just oughta go ahead and do it for yourself.

Well, that’s it for Jack Sh*t. I hope you’ll remember me fondly as you sail past milestones on your way to the success you so richly deserve. I wish I could be around to high-five you at the finish line, but it simply wasn’t meant to be.

Goodbye, my friends. Stay on track, but most of all, stay true to yourself.

Now, I just need to remember to set this up in the blogging on-deck circle and give my wife Anita instructions on how to push this out as I’m being laid out to rest, but mostly I need to be absolutely certain that I don’t hit “Publish” on this one prematurely, because that would be kind of embarrassing…

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Signs Your Mom is a Fit Blogger

• You’ve got bugs in your teeth from riding in jogging stroller

• You know all the fitness center day care center workers by name

• Your breakfast today was scrambled eggs and #hashtags

• You have highest Klout score of anyone in your kindergarten class

• She freakin’ tweets every motherf*ckin’ cute thing that comes out of your mouth

• You're only kid on your block that doesn't know what Sour Patch Kids taste like

• Her idea of “fun” birthday party is a 5K run and a piñata filled with raw veggies

• Quickest way to get her attention is to leave comment on her blog

• You live in constant fear that you're gonna read about the bed-wetting incident from two years ago on her site

• Your lunch is healthy, colorful and has had 1,200 views on Pinterest

Sunday, December 9, 2012

There's Snow Business Like Weight Loss Business

Frosty: I need your help, Jack.

Jack: S’now way.

Frosty: Very funny.

Jack: I'm here all winter; be sure and tip the waitresses. So... what’s the problem?

Frosty: Look at me. Just look at me!

Jack: You’re beautiful, baby.

Frosty: Look at this shape of mine.

Jack: Well…

Frosty: Big in the middle.

Yeah, but…

Frosty: Gigantic ass.

Jack: You know you’re a snowman, don’t you?

Frosty: I still want to be in the best shape I can be.

Jack: Well, normally I’d suggest improving your diet.

Frosty: Man, you’re not making me a jolly happy soul.

Jack: So, maybe you could try exercising more.

Frosty: Oh, Jack. Why don’t you snow blow me?

Jack: Look, just do what I say and I guarantee that you’ll be slimmer in six months.

Frosty: Hmmmmm… that would be right at swimsuit season.

Friday, December 7, 2012

Holiday Party Survival Tips

• Request that the hostess make the unhealthy food extra undelicious and the healthy food extra delicious if she doesn't mind.

• You can organize a quick game of Twister if you can find some sort of spinner and a mat that has a bunch of colored circles on it.

• Pour out the beer in your bottle and replace it with lite beer, then pour out the lite beer and replace that with water.

• Eggnog doesn't have very many calories as long as you spit it out


• If the party features one of those fabulous chocolate fountains, just run out of the house screaming.

• Don't see how many devilled eggs you can eat in an hour, Cool Hand Luke.

• If you go to party with me, a good rule of thumb is to eat less than you want, eat less than you need and eat less than me.

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

The Dieter to the Guy

“Will you walk into my parlor?” said the dieter to the guy;

“‘Tis the healthiest snacks I serve there that ever you did try.

The way into my parlor is up a winding stair,

And I have many healthy foodstuffs 

To offer once we’re there.”

“Oh no, no,” said the too-big guy;
“To ask me is in vain,
For who’ll go up your winding stair 

For snacks made from whole grain?”

“I’m sure you must be hungry, bud. 

Of that you can’t deny.

Just try one of my smoothies,” said the dieter to the guy.
“Made from the freshest fruit around;
I’ve added protein whey.
I think you’ll really like it,
It’s a good-for-you parfait!”

“Oh no, no,” said the too-big guy, 

“That smoothie I’ll not take,
I’d rather head to Sonic for
A Coconut Crème Pie Shake!” 

Said the cunning dieter to the guy:

“Dear friend, what can I do
To prove that things that taste good
Can be so good for you?

I have within my pantry
Good foods that aren’t refined;
I’m sure you’ll appreciate that they
Won’t add to your bottom-line.”

“Oh no, no,” said the too-big guy; 

“Kind sir, that cannot be:
The kind of food in your pantry
Was just not made for me!”

“You dumbass!” said the dieter,
“It’s time that you got wise;
You’ll find that when you eat better,
Feeling better is your prize! 

When you gaze into the looking-glass
Upon my parlor shelf;

If you will eat the way I’ve asked you to,

You won’t believe yourself!”
“I’ll think about it, okay?” he said,
“I knew I’d have to one day.
And, maybe now’s the time to start,
Or quite possibly Monday.” 

The dieter turned him round about,
And went into his den,

He fired up his computer and started working
On his blog again:

So he wove a subtle post in a manner sly,

And set his table ready to ensnare the guy;

Then came out to his door again and merrily did sing: 

“Come hither, hither, fatty guy, it’s time to do this thing!;

Your pants fit bad, are way too-tight;
You’re on a bad trajectory.
You face has more chins
Than a Chinese phone directory.”

At last, at last! Finally, at long last, this silly too-big guy,

Hearing the dieter’s inspiring words, came slowly flitting by;

With hopeful heart, he changed his ways,
His old bad habits ceased,
He cut out all the things he loved
That were brown and fried in grease.
Thinking of his future goals,
Smart, prudent choice! At last!

He started eating healthy food, just like the dieter asked;
He cooked at home, ate fresh fare, turned things around one-eighty.

And found his future didn't have
To be so over-weighty! 

And now, dear little children, who may this story read,

To greasy, fattening meals, I pray you’ll have no need;
Good health comes to those with a healthy food supply.

So take a lesson from this tale of the dieter and the guy.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Welcome to my Garbage Sale

Lady: What kind of garage sale is this anyway?

Jack: Ummmmm, it’s not a “garage sale”

Lady: But the sign down by the road…

Jack: It’s a “gar-bage sale”

Lady: Gar-bage?

Jack: Well… garbage.

Lady: So you’re selling a bunch of junk food?

Jack: That’s right!

Lady: So all those drinks on the table? Those are for sale?

Jack: Sodas, juice drinks and teas can dump hundreds of sugary calories into your day. You'll find anywhere from 12 to 22 teaspoons in just one bottle of sweetened (16 to 20 fluid ounces) of tea or soda.

Lady: What about this tube of… what is it? Cookie dough?

Jack: Whether it's cookies, croissants or biscuits, these products are tubes of highly processed ingredients and unhealthy fats.

Look… you accidentally stuck some multi-grain bread out here…

That’s a tough one. A lot of “multi-grain” breads just have a few grains mixed into regular white bread. I’ve switched to barley, brown rice, quinoa and steel-cut oats.

Lady: Reduced fat peanut butter? Surely that’s more healthy than the regular kind.

Jack: Not necessarily, and don’t call me Shirley. Actually, when companies take out the fat, they have to add something back in to make the food taste delicious. In this case, it’s lots of extra sugar—and who wants that? Instead, spread regular peanut butter on your sandwich for more of the good fats and protein without fake sweetness.

Lady: Is this rice?

Jack: Well, white rice. I’ve started skipping the refined grains and going for whole. There’s a 17% higher risk of diabetes associated with eating five or more servings of white rice per week, compared to eating white rice less than once a month.

Lady: Why are these Twinkees $20 apiece.

Jack: Hey, those are collector’s items!

Monday, December 3, 2012

If This Doesn't Inspire You, I Give Up

 Knock, knock. Are you there? Wake up!

 I've got a deal for you...

 Eat healthy this week and I'll give you what's behind my back.

 That's right... a baby puppy!

 And if you will exercise at least six days this week, I've got something else for you...

 That's right... ANOTHER BABY PUPPY!

 Let's kick this up one... more... notch. If you'll eat healthy and exercise this week, I will give you...



I'm kidding. It's just a puppy. But we'll both be 
really sad if you don't eat right and exercise this week.

Sunday, December 2, 2012

I Am Not Average

One to two pounds.

That’s it.

That’s the average weight gain for an individual between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day.

That’s pretty good news I guess. It’s not the seven to ten pounds that I always thought it was during the holidays.

However, there’s bad news.

You knew there was bad news, didn’t you?

According to a report in The New England Journal of Medicine, most people don’t ever lose the pound of weight that they put on during the holidays.

Since the average weight gain during adulthood is about one to two pounds a year, that means much of midlife weight gain can be explained by holiday eating.

I was well on my way to that one-two pound holiday gain last week, but I dug in and got back on track.

I figure there will be plenty of holiday treats and temptations to work through in the weeks to come, but I’m gonna keep working, keep pushing, keep going.

Who wants to be average anyway?

Last weigh-in: 238.0 lbs.
Loss: -.8


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