Sh*tlock Holmes and the Case of the Lost Pounds

“Fatson, come here.”

“What is it, Holmes?” answered the chubby assistant, sporting a tweed suit and meaty porkchop sideburns.

“I believe it’s a clue,” rejoined Sh*tlock Holmes, who was dressed in a Sherlock Holmes outfit, complete with magnifying glass.

“It appears to be a rice cake with peanut butter smeared on it,” observed Fatson.

“Almond butter,” corrected Sh*tlock.

“How can you know that?” asked Fatson, perplexed.

“Smellamentary, my dear Fatson. And did you take a look in the pantry?”

“It seems perfectly ordinary to me…” bemused Fatson

“Take a closer look,” said Sh*tlock.

“Good heavens…”

“That’s right,” continued the detective. “No corn chips, toritilla chips, potato chips, pretzel chips, pita chips, Sun chips, cheese nibs, Cheez-Its, Cheese Whiz, Chex mix, cheese-and-crackers, crackers-and-cheese, peanut butter-and-crackers, peanut butter cookies, pretzels, Pringles, Pop-Tarts, pork rinds, Fritos, Cheetos, Doritos…

“Unbelievable! Perhaps they refrigerate their snacks,” suggested Fatson. “For freshness.”

Sh*tlock swung open the refrigerator door, and his assistant peered over his shoulder.

“I don’t understand it,” blubbered Fatson. “There’s nothing in here but fresh fruits and vegetables. No one eats like this. It’s impossible.”

Sh*tlock shook his head as he held a red plum to his face to examine it more closely. “How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?”

Sh*tlock sniffed at the air, then moved toward the laundry room.

“Fatson,” said Sh*tlock. “Take a big whiff in that laundry hamper.”

Fatson obliged, but reeled backwards after sticking his face down to smell.

“Good God, Sh*tlock,” exclaimed Fatson. “That’s utterly horrible.

“Just as I suspected,” hmmmmmm’ed Sh*tlock. “Exercise.”

Fatson shook his head, “Have you figured the mystery out yet, Sh*tlock?”

“I believe I have, Fatson,” he said, pacing back and forth in the hallway. “The lack of junk food, the abundance of healthy nutritional items and the sweat-soaked workout clothes indicate a successful weight loss journey is underway.”

“That’s it, Sh*tlock,” exclaimed Fatson. “But you haven’t solved the mystery of where the missing pounds went. Do you have the answer to that, Holmes?”

“I believe I have, my good man,” said Sh*tlock. “Look over your shoulder.”

“What?” asked Fatson.

“Lower,” suggested Sh*tlock.

“There?” croaked Fatson.

“Yes, my good fellow,” said Sh*tlock. “Right there on your ass.”

“Ahh, yes,” frowned Fatson, sucking his gut in a bit. “Mystery solved.”

Bodfather: Good Things Happen to Those Who Weigh

Subject #4 in the "Bodfather"

Witness Reduction Program: Jodi

 

Height: 5’8”
Starting weight  317.6
Current weight: 299.0
Loss: 18.6 lbs.

They call me the “Bodfather”.

I’m working with a small group of folks who are allowing me to share their weight-loss journeys on my blog. I offer up support and encouragement, and have even hooked them up with a free Philips DirectLife activity monitor. I’m as involved as they’ll let me be…

But if you read the last installment of this saga, you know that it isn’t always easy being the “Bodfather”.

Oh, everyone’s super excited at the start, coming out with guns blazing.

Then they shoot up all their bullets and start whining about how hard it is and how slow it’s going and how they know what they’re doing wrong but they’re having trouble making lasting changes.

What can I tell ‘em?

It’s hard.

It’s slow going sometimes.

If your head and your heart aren’t in it, you’re not going to be able to make it happen.

Each of them have fantastic reasons for wanting to lose weight and get more healthy.

Just like you.

Each of them have plenty of excuses for why they can’t seem to be able to get the job done.

Just like you.

Now it’s just a matter of doing it or not doing it.

That’s why I’m so proud of Jodi, the 4th participant in the “Bod Squad”. I wasn’t sure about her at the start of this deal, but she’s become a driving force these days.

She just powered past the “300” milestone and wants to never look back at that number again. Even through all the temptations of the holiday season and a nasty bug that kept her from getting her normal exercise in, Jodi’s been rocking the scale lately.

“I've all of a sudden started to really notice that I'm losing,” she told me recently. “My pants are annoyingly sliding down...time to get a good belt! The hubby is noticing too...he was watching me exercise and he told me my butt doesn't jiggle a bit...good and firm. Still waiting for other family members/friends to see...but I guess it can be hard to notice when I'm wearing the same stuff. Who knows?”

I know.

I know that if Jodi keeps on making good choices on the food front and stays active and focused, that the people in her life are going to have no choice but to stand up and take notice. She's making it happen.

Some days, it’s really fun to be the “Bodfather.”

Stages of Dieting

Denial - At my heaviest, I remember that I could look at myself in the mirror and, at certain angles and with the proper lighting, convince myself that I looked pretty much all right. Sure I could stand to lose a few pounds, but I didn’t look half-bad, even though I felt like day-old crap most mornings. I felt like I was okay… and then I’d see a snapshot taken of me at a picnic or party and my self-image would deflate like a soufflé during an earthquake.

Anger - I can’t tell you how many of my diets were initially fueled by feverish anger… getting mad at myself, at my weakness, at my inability to get my act together. But here’s the thing about anger: it burns white-hot for a short period, but it’s simply not sustainable, not something that can carry you over the long haul. Anger is an all-out sprint from the starting gate of a marathon.

Bargaining – I’ll just have one more reckless weekend, one more bust-a-gut free-for-all before I really, really and I mean really get serious about it. That's what I told myself over and over and over. Funny how those “last meal” gorge-fests don’t really get the job done as a diet booster… well, not all the funny when you stop and think about it.

Depression - Overwhelming feelings of hopelessness and crushing levels of frustration, bitterness and self pity. That’s what a lifetime of not being able to get the deal done generally brings about. You feel like there’s nothing you can do to engineer a U-turn on the healthy living highway. You feel down and out, lower than low. This is the darkness before the dawn.

Acceptance - I doubt that there’s a single one of us that doesn’t know exactly what we need to do to lose weight and get more fit. We know it. We know it like we know our own names, yet we stumble and struggle to eat the right things, do the right things. Then one day (if we’re very lucky) it clicks, in our heads and in our hearts, and we realize how all the parts and pieces fit together, how energy, effort and enthusiasm can come together to create extraordinary circumstances. That is when the magic happens...

I don’t really know how appropriate it is to appropriate the “stages of grief” idea for a discussion about losing weight and getting more healthy, but I will use anything I can get my hands on–rants, rhymes, riddles or rabid rambling–to help drive these points home. I’ll use anything and everything at my disposal to keep pushing myself (and you, I hope) to a better place.

Wherever you are on this journey, I hope you’re finding yourself making progress. I hope you've left behind your anger and self-doubt. I pray you’re done with the bad bargains and the pity parties.

I hope you’re in a good place, ready to face your challenges, your opportunities and your future head-on, with courage and conviction.

You can do this.

Accept that fact and let’s go.