Gaining Perspective (Among Other Things)

Weekly weigh-in: 231.3
Loss: +2.0 lbs
Total loss: 60.2 lbs.
Emotion: Un-monkish

This was the week that Life decided to interrupt my crazy double-time march to my goal weight. After a week of *perfect*, things took a turn for the decidedly un-perfect.

On Sunday, I took my first day off from exercising in three weeks. I knew I needed it, but it made me restless and semi-irritable. Then I had a beer at supper because my wife Anita accused me of being a monk, and not one of those fun-loving party monks you hear about all the time with their wild parties at the monastery. No, she meant a boring, no-fun monk. So… to prove that I’m no stick-in-the-mud, I knocked down a cold one.

Then on Monday, my office celebrated a big anniversary with champagne and donuts (WTF?) at a breakfast meeting. Even though I’d had my normal breakfast, I went ahead and had a pastry and a glass of bubbly, so I wouldn’t be thought of as the office monk. Later that afternoon, we had a little ice cream celebration continuation with a mini-station from Ben & Jerry’s. Maybe there’s a sorbet or low-fat option? Of course not. So most of a small cup of Chocolate Fudge Brownie goes down the gullet, but at least I’m back on the exercise track.

Tuesday was looking good until supper. Anita had made a fresh apple crumble for dessert, and I just couldn’t be rude now, could I? Ice cream on top? But of course.

Wednesday was an all-day meeting that included lunch (a deli sammich and some chips and salsa… though I did lay off the cookies and brownies). Three days in and this week is looking like an absolute train wreck. I go to the gym after work, but now I'm just trying to minimize the damages.

Thursday was supposed to be another lunch meeting (and more deli food), but it was cancelled, so I got in my regular workout and things started getting a little more back to abnormal.

Another beer on Saturday and a can retire both the monk robe and the title of “Most Biggest Loser-Like.” I’m looking forward to weighing in about as much as I am the proctologist’s gentle probings. Last week I hopped on the scale with reckless abandon; this week I stepped on like it was covered with hot coals.

Though I can’t call it an absolute success, this is the kind of week I’m probably going to have to deal with more often than not as I go forward on this journey. Moments to savor, tough-it-out days to try and settle back up.

And I did learn this at least: *perfect* is a tough act to follow.

The Sh*t House Rules

One of the great things about this weight loss adventure is that you learn so much along the way. So much about health and fitness, so much about your body, so much about yourself. These are the things that I try to keep in front of me as I make my way through the day…

• A little bit of crap is still crap.
• Shake your “salt it first” habit.
• Accidents happen, but good meals are planned.
• S-l-o-o-o-o-o-o-w down with that fork, bubba. No need to create sparks.
• Small plate works great.
• Drink your watah like you oughta.
• Fresh beats canned by a country mile.
• Fill up on fiber.
• Make your momma proud: eat your veggies.
• If you pack a gym pack the night before, you’re roughly 75,000% more likely to work out the next day
• Push… your body can take it.
• It’s a scale, not a trampoline. You don’t need to hop on it every five minutes.
• Fresh fruit… eat some everyday.
• Find what works and work it.
• Sweat like you mean it.
• Blogging every day keeps the focus on what you’re doing.
• Don’t eat on the run.
• The more ingredients, the less you wanna eat it.
• This is your future; make it a big priority in your life.
• Careful with that salad dressing; it can be a Trojan horse full of fat and calories.
• Less chewin’, more doin’.
• Put an ending to the vending machine.
• Understand that your brain doesn’t always have your body’s back.
• Say bye-bye to all the refined sugar you can.
• Buy gas at a gas station… not food.
• Variety is the spice of life.
• Some people lose weight eating out a lot… you won’t.
• Beware of BLTs (bites, licks and tastes).
• Sometimes a free meal isn’t free at all.
• Jogging’s better than walking, but walking’s better than nothing.
• Just because it’s low-cal/low-fat doesn’t mean you can go crazy.
• Get plenty of rest…this sh*t is hard work.
• Chew on nuts (your own, not mine).
• If you keep junk around, you’ll eat junk.
• Work out time for exercise.
• Why you’re eating is just as important as what you’re eating.
• Build up your “No thanks” muscle.
• If you just can’t do it on your own, it’s okay to seek some help.
• Write down what you eat. Everything you eat. Read it occasionally.
• Don’t let the world drag you down.
• Kick yourself… in the seat of the pants.

You don’t have to follow all of these rules, but if you stick to enough of them, chances are you’ll make some good progress on your path to a fitter, better you.

More Weight Loss Nursery Rhymes

Jack Jacob Jingleblogger Sh*t
Jack Jacob Jingleblogger Sh*t,
His blog name is my name too.
Whenever he drops a pound,
The people make this sound,
They say “Congrats, Jack Jacob Jingleblogger Sh*t!”

Mix a Shake, Mix a Shake
Mix a shake, Mix a shake, Smoothie man.
Mix me a smoothie as fast as you can;
Frozen fruit, OJ and some extra flax seed.
And put it in the blender for Baby and me.

Three Blimp Mice
Three blimp mice, three blimp mice,
See how they eat, see how they eat.
They all ran after the farmer's chow,
The food from his wife and his pig and his cow.
They’re thinking of joining Weight Watchers now.
These three blimp mice.

Mary Had a Little Limb
Mary had a little limb,
It was as weak as water.
That’s because she wouldn’t work out
The way that Mary oughta.

Mary went to the gym one day
To see what weights would gain her.
She didn’t know just what to do,
So she hired a personal trainer.

Six months later, things have changed,
And you should see Mary flex.
No one who’s been around her now,
Calls her the “weaker sex.”

Little No Sleep
Little Bo Peep has lost her sleep,
And doesn't know where to find it.
She’ll stay online hours at a time,
Maybe that’s the cause behind it.

Old King Carb
Old King Carb was a meaty old dude,
And a meaty old dude was he.
He called for his beef,
And he called for his ham,
And he called for his boiled eggs three.

“By my curly feet, that’s a whole lotta meat,”
Proclaimed the king’s small jester Paul.
“It’s not great for your heart, so if you’re smart,
You’ll start watching your cholesterol.”

Hickory Dickory Hog
Hickory dickory hog,
The mouse wrote a weight loss blog.
In his weigh-in post,
He lost an ounce (at most)
Maybe that’s why he doesn’t have any followers.

Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary
Mary, Mary, quite contrary,
How do you stay so thin?
You eat like a pig, drink like a fish
And you’re the size of a violin.

Little Miss Tooter
Little Miss Tooter, sat at her ‘puter
Researching “curds and whey.”
Google said that,
They are really hi-fat,
And that scared Miss Tooter away.

Fattycat, Fattycat
“Fattycat, Fattycat, where have you been?”
“I've been up to London to visit the Queen.”
“Fattycat, Fattycat, why back so soon?”
“She made me do Zumba each afternoon!”
“ME-OWWWW!"

Star Light, Star Bright
Star light, star bright,
First comment I see tonight.
I wish I may, I wish I might,
Get ten more comments tonight.

Selfish is the New Selfless

I am notorious for giving you advice that you already know, but today I’m going to let you in on a weight loss secret that may have eluded you thus far on your journey, and it is this: you need to be more selfish.

I know, I know. Last week, I was telling you to be more giving and more caring. What can I say? I’m a mystery, wrapped in an enigma, engulfed in a riddle, stuffed inside a taffy wrapper.

But I do have a point: to achieve any meaningful success on this fretful weight loss adventure, sometimes you just have to make yourself THE top priority.

You have to grocery shop for what you need, not what the kids like. My kids wailed like little banshees when I quit buying cookies, chips and sodas. They can get away with having some of that stuff… but I can’t. And here’s the thing: why not help them understand now nutritionally poor those choices are now instead of making them learn it like we have… the hard way?

You need to carve out time in your too-busy schedule to exercise, even if it comes at the expense of helping a neighbor or running a load of laundry.

If you’re working 12-hour days, something’s gotta give. Ask for assistance, beg for help. We–your blogging companions–can give you support, we can give you advice. Sometimes we can even give you inspiration, but the one thing none of us can give you is more time. You’ve got to make that for yourself.

If I know you (and though we’ve never met, I feel like I know you like a sibling), you spend a lot of your day doing for others. That’s important, to be sure, but please make sure you don’t do for others at the expense of doing for yourself. Especially in this, your hour of need.

You need to do this for yourself, because nobody else can do it for you.

And here’s the thing (and it’s a pretty evil twist when you stop to think about it): you have been selfish in all the wrong ways.

Selfishly letting lethargy and convenience sap your energy and drive, making your life less than it could be, less than it should be.

Selfishly ignoring your body’s needs and your heart’s desires.

Selfishly putting off what you knew you needed to do.

You know it, and you know how to do it. There are a lot of reasons why you haven’t done it already, but selfishness has to be included in that list.

I can’t tell you the specific steps you, as an individual, need to take to set your journey on the track for success. I will just say that prioritizing it, focusing on it and, yes, getting a little big selfish with it can help get you there sooner.

Speaking of selfish, I almost went this entire post without providing your obligatory joke. My bad...

A Mom is driving her little girl to her friend's house for a play date.

“Mommy,” the little girl asks, “how old are you?”

“Honey, you're not supposed to ask a lady her age,” the mother scolds. “It's just not polite.”

“OK,” the little girl says. “How much do you weigh?”

“Now really,” the mother replies. “These are personal questions and are really none of your business.”

Undaunted, the little girl asks, “Why did you and daddy get a divorce?”

“Honestly! That's enough questions!” The exasperated mother walks away as the two friends begin to play.

“My Mom wouldn't tell me anything,” the little girl says to her friend.

“Well,” the friend tells her. “All you need to do is look at her drivers license. It is like a report card–it's got everything on it.”

Later that night the little girl approachesher mother, “I know how old you are: you're 32.”

Surprised, the mom asks, “How'd you find that out?”

“I also know you weigh 140 pounds.”

The mother is past surprise and shock now. "How in heavens name did you find that out?"”

“And,” the little girl says triumphantly, “I know why you and daddy got a divorce.”

“Oh really?" the mother asks. “Why?”

“Because you got an F in sex.”

Moving On Up

“My name is Dr. Geoff Rutledge, and I am delighted to invite you to join Wellsphere's HealthBlogger Network, the world's premier network of health writers, which now includes over 2,000 of the Web's leading health bloggers! We reviewed your blog, and based on the high quality of your writing, the frequency of your posts, and your passion for helping others, we think you would be a great addition to the Network. It is easy and free to join the HealthBlogger Network, all you have to do is reply to this message and let us know you would like to participate.”

The email, which I received yesterday, went on and on with a bunch of details regarding this incredible blogging deal, and the whole thing looks pretty sugar-sweet, so I’m going for it. Here’s my reply:

Dear Doctor Geoff,

As the kids say: “OMG!”

I was surprised, delighted, overwhelmed, amazed, enchanted, jubilant and made slightly woozy by your offer to bring Jack Sh*t, Gettin’ Fit into the Wellsphere’s HealthBlogger Network. Was it my love letter to my skinny jeans that did the trick? The fitness center conversation starters? Confush*t says? No matter; all I can say is that it is quite an honor, and I promise to be the HealthBloggiest HealthBlogger that ever HealthBlogged!

However, in the spirit of openness and complete honesty, I do feel compelled to inform you that I was never actually awarded the “Really Sh*tty Weight Loss Blog” award that is displayed on my blog. As hard to believe as this may be, I made that award up in order to make myself more attractive to your organization.

If you still want JSGF after that startling revelation, I just have a few questions that will need to be answered before I’m ready to sign on…

1. Will being a part of the Wellsphere’s HealthBlogger network allow me to call myself “Doctor”? Will I be able to write prescriptions?
2. You say you have 5 million monthly visitors. Well, according to my records, I also have 5 million monthly visitors. If they’re all different people, that’s all well and good, but what if they’re all the same folks? Shouldn’t we check this out before hopping in bed with one another?
3. Occasionally, I will give extremely bad weight loss advice, such as “Make sure you drink at least a quart of YooHoo each day” or “There's no appetite suppressant quite as effective as bacon.” Will I need to run these kinds of tips past a panel of your health experts from now on?
4. Will my morbid fascination with taffy disqualify me from participating?
5. What if I write a parody that parodies another better-known parody?
6. How does this affect my other blogs, including (but not limited to) Learn to Knit with Jack Sh*t, Whittle a Bit with Jack Sh*t, and Jack Sh*t’s Guide to Go-Go Boot Collecting?
7. Will you help me figure out a way to add a feature that will make viewers’ computers freeze up if they leave a negative comment?
8. If this venture is a huge success and we develop a “Jack Sh*t” action figure, can we please make certain that he’s not hung like Ken?
9. Do I get a free t-shirt for joining like I did at the gym?
10. Is there any possibility of changing the name to the “Wellsh*t HealthBlogger Network”? That’s not a deal-breaker, but you’ve got to admit that it does have a nice ring to it.

Again, thanks so much for considering JSGF for inclusion in Wellsphere’s HealthBlogger Network. Together, we’re going to make people so healthy they can’t stand it!

Respectfully yours,


Jack Sh*t
Jack Sh*t, Gettin’ Fit

I really feel like this association with the HealthBlogger network is going to give my blog the credibility that it has thus far been lacking. I'll keep you posted on the progress...

Making My Move On My Skinny Jeans

Hey, baby. I haven’t seen you around in forever. You’re still looking fine. Look at that sweet ass on you. I can’t believe it’s been so long since we’ve been together, baby. You shouldn’t have been in hiding away, sweetheart; you look so good you should be strutting your stuff out on the street. Man, I’d love to take you to my office and show you off to all my co-workers. I told ‘em all about you, but they think you don’t really exist. They think I just made you up.

We had some good times didn’t we? I remember the first time I laid eyes on you, baby. Remember? It was at that store in the mall, you hanging out in the corner with all your friends. You didn't even know I existed, am I right? Well, I wasn’t sure you were right for me, either, but we got together and…well, it was magic. All I remember is that I couldn't keep my hands off of you. Remember what that sales clerk said to me: “Why don't you two get a dressing room?” We were so crazy. And remember what I said to you later that right when I was gettin' it on with you? “I can’t believe this sh*t!”

It’s true: I couldn’t believe that sh*t. I just couldn’t believe that we were so right for each other, because just a few months earlier I wouldn’t have had the nerve to even try to get together with you. Even if I'd screwed up the courage to try, it wouldn't have worked out. Not then anyway...

But we did get together, didn't we? I still have pictures of the two of us, and while it may sound a tad vain, man, we looked good together.

That whole year we were inseparable, you and I. Where I went, you were sure to go as well. We had some good times… parties, concerts, staying out with friends, spending time just the two of us. And then… well…

Look, baby. I can’t explain why I left… or why I was gone for so long. It don’t make no sense, me leaving you the way I did. Yes, there were others but they were so big and ugly, not svelte and fine like you. I promise you, baby, I was thinking about you the whole time I was with those others. I was thinking of how good the two of us were for each other, how right it was when we were together. Of course, I mean that, baby. I mean it with all my heart. I threw those others outta my house as soon as I could, and now I’ve come back to you. Only you.

And this time, I promise I won’t ever leave you again.

My *Perfect* Month

Thinking about it, I really do believe I could have extended my *perfect* week and built up a *perfect* month pretty easily. I could keep losing 7 or 8 pounds a week. I could really do it. I just need a few things to happen…

• The elevator at work must break down and I must forget which floor I work on so I spend a half hour or so going up and down stairs looking for my office.
• I must get a wild, insatiable craving for lettuce.
• President Obama must bring back Prohibition for a one-month trial.
• All bread products in my house must spontaneously become caked in unsightly mold (even ones in the freezer).
• I must make a new best friend who just happens to be a personal chef, whose apartment building has just burned down so he needs a place to crash while he works on testing his new line of low-fat recipes.
• When I’m out jogging, a pack of mean, nearly rabid dogs must chase me, but they can only run slightly slower than I can and they must give up and go home a block from my house.
• I must contract that disease where you kind of zone out on the treadmill and go a really long time without realizing it and you kind of wake up and go “Whoa, wha' happened?”
• I must start “sleep-jogging.”
• I must develop a severe allergy to taffy.
• Elliptical machine at the gym must go berserk and do crazy hour-long bucking in which I can’t get off, and my shrieky cries for help must go unnoticed by the other gym patrons.
  
• Spa must call and say they’ve just drawn my business card out of the fishbowl and that I’ve won free massages for a month.
• My regular personal trainer must go out on maternity leave and I get stuck with the really mean one that has the Hitler mustache. Oh, I hate her! Oh yeah, and my personal trainer must get pregnant.
• I must go in for emergency appendectomy and doctor must misread the chart and accidentally go to town with the lipo machine.
• While shaving, I must accidentally slice part of my cheek off (and then have to slice off the other side to even things up).
• I must be chosen to be a month-long test-driver for the new Chevy Grunt, the first automobile that runs on Bowflex technology.