Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Lending a Hand

Note: Since the Jack Sh*t Players did all the heavy lifting today, it freed me up to engage in a little guest posting action for my buddy Jewlia Goulia as she begins a big C25K push. Check it out here.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Observations from C25K Day Two

Recently, I decided to take advantage of the springtime weather and move the cardio portion of my workout outdoors. My choices were yardwork (my wife Anita’s idea) or C25K.

In case you’re abbreviationtionally challenged, C25K stands for “Couch to 5K” and it’s supposed to be a good program that allows you to work your way up to running 5K while improving your ability to mutter profanities under your breath and almost die.

In order to make it a little more idiot-proof, I downloaded an iPhone app to yell at me what to do. This time, I went to my gym’s indoor track because I didn’t know what I was doing last time and wound up running to the next town over and having to take a cab back.

I don’t know if it was any easier on Day Two, but at least I took notes immediately afterwards so I could share my findings with you…

  • I’m no physician, but I’m thinking this phenomenon I call “Burny Lung” can’t be a good thing.

  • Ditto “Hurty Foot”.

  • Memo to self: the amount that you impressed other runners by concentrating on your “perfect form” was probably offset by how hard you crashed into that wall.

  • It’s been a while since you went to the mall to see if they sell “rocket shoes”. Maybe somebody’s invented them by now…

  • Still searching for the “runner’s high” experienced trailblazers speak of. As of now, all I’ve felt is a “runner’s low”, “runner’s medium” and “runner’s crying jag”.

  • If that little old lady passes me again, I’m so gonna trip her.

  • In the JSC2K program that I’m totally developing once I’ve completed the traditional C2K, there’s going to be much more “couchiness” and we’re going to put longer intervals between the runs (say… two months).

But I’m still on track, still putting one foot in front of the other no matter how little of a thrill it gives me.

When I’m on an elliptical or bike, my mind likes to wander to far-off places. I’m thinking about what I’m going to have for dinner or maybe the next blog post I’m going to write and I feel like I’m multi-tasking and getting stuff done.

When I’m running on my little C25K program, all I’m thinking about is how that famous jogger dude dropped dead.

From jogging.


Monday, March 29, 2010

I'm Full

Would I like a second helping?

No thanks, I'm full.

Full of hope.

Full of dreams.

Full of energy.

Full of excitement.

For the first time in forever, I'm full of optimism about the road ahead, full of confidence in myself and my limitless possibilities.

Yes, there was a time not so long ago when I was overweight and overwhelmed. My weight had never been higher; my self esteem never lower.

But guess what? It is within us to change ourselves. To rise up from rock bottom and reach for the stars. To stop holding ourselves back, stop living on the sidelines, stop making excuses and start making some magic happen.

That's what it feels like to me anyway, like some kind of beautiful voodoo. A year ago I felt powerless and out of control; today I feel fit and strong, as though I can move mountains.

Most of the time, I have a point to my posts, even if I cleverly disguise it with bombastic wordplay or juvenile fart jokes. But not today...

Today I'm just checking to let you know that I'm still on my healthy eating path, still living my healthy-living life.

Whether you’re strutting or struggling, whether your days are trying or triumphant, I hope you’re as committed as I am to doing what it takes, whatever it takes, to keep your healthy journey on track.

This day is definitely full of possibility.

Sunday, March 28, 2010


Weekly weigh-in: -------
Loss: ----
Total loss: ------
Emotion: -------

For the month of March, I’ve been marching blindly, making my way through my day without benefit of stepping foot on my bathroom scale. As my four-week truce during this full-scale warfare comes to a close, it seemed a fitting time to reflect on what (if anything) I learned from the experience.

This journey is not about a number. It’s bigger than that. More important than that. The changes I’ve made since I began started out on this trek… eating less, eating healthier, exercising more… have changed my life for the better, regardless of whether that number is 191, 199 or 210. There’s nothing magical about any one number… the real magic is in reclaiming your body and your health.

“Losing weight” and “getting fit” aren’t necessarily the same thing. Maybe the two are interconnected early in the game, but “losing weight” is a Point A to Point B kind of deal; “getting fit” has no finish line. It’s the pursuit of a lifetime.

The end is just the beginning. That’s what has tripped me up in the past. Being done. Being finished. Slipping back into my old bad habits as if they were a pair of flannel pajama pants. You see, I’ve lost weight before only to forget what got me there, forget that chips and beer pack a high-calorie punch, basically just forget myself.

I can’t say for certainty that this time will be any different than the rest, but I like to think that it will. I like to think that I’m older and wiser now and that I appreciate what I’ve been able to accomplish more this go-round than any time in the past. Most of all, I really don’t feel like I’m done yet. Not by a long shot.

I’ve been paying attention to my body this month (though I still never got around to taking measurements). My beer belly’s hasn’t magically transformed into a six-pack, but it’s not a keg these days either. My 34 waist jeans have gotten downright baggy, and I’ve actually had to buy more new shirts because the tops I was wearing this time last year absolutely swallow me now.

I’m eating on plan, exercising like I get paid to do it and am feeling better than I have in… well, better than I ever have, I think. I don’t need a scale to tell me that I’ve been moving in the right direction this month.

That said, if I’ve show a 10-lb. gain next week, I’m gonna crap my pants.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

How to Stop Being a Wally Whinybritches

Welcome to "Same Old Sh*t" Saturday, where I reprint my best posts from the past. Unfortunately, I ran out of best posts. I also ran out of pretty good posts. But don't worry... I've still got a few don't-suck-too-much posts...

We all have our bad days on this arduous weight loss journey. Our nothing-goes-right, everybody-sucks, I-hate-my-life days when we’d just like to curl up someplace and die. Actually, we’d prefer if everybody else would just curl up and die, preferably quietly yet in a bitter, painful manner. My Grandpa Noah always called this being a “Wally Whinybritches.”

How can we dig ourselves out of this rut and embrace all of life’s rich goodness and endless possibilities? How can we infuse ourselves with warm positive vibes and fresh constructive energy? I’m glad you asked…

  • Make friends with that nice old lady neighbor and, while chatting with her, mentally calculate the difference between your life expectancy and hers.
  • Go to Starbucks and order a Grande extra hot half-caff/half-decaff with extra foam, split shot with a half squirt of sugar-free vanilla and a half squirt of sugar-free cinnamon, a half packet of Splenda in a Venti cup with extra whipped cream with chocolate and caramel sauce drizzled on top. Pay with pennies.
  • Give a homeless person a backrub.
  • Write a letter to someone you’ve not heard from in a while, and ask where’s that $50 they owe you.
  • Give yourself permission to shoplift something nice for yourself.
  • Write down all the things that bother you on a list, then take a handgun and shoot the list until there’s nothing left but burnt, tattered little slips of paper.
  • Make it a “Do Something Nice for Me” Day, and when I say “me,” I’m literally referring to myself. Come to my house and do something nice for me (preferably laundry).
  • Splurge for a background check on your best friend.
  • Imagine that you are breathing in happiness and farting out rainbows.
  • Show a child how to do something (like mow the lawn).
  • Make a list of things you’d like to accomplish over the week, then get drunk and laugh hysterically about the list.
  • Try a daily affirmation, such as “Affirmations aren’t really as stupid and silly as I think they are.”
  • Realize that the world has seen bigger problems that yours; not much bigger, mind you, but bigger.
  • Be your own cheering section (cheerleading outfit required).
  • Ask yourself "What can I do now to be more happy?" and then do that thing.

If all else fails, remember that there are kids out there in the hospital with terminal illnesses. You’ve got it much better off than they do. (Note to kids out there in the hospital with terminal illnesses: if you’re not planning to use your Make-A-Wish wish, I’ve always wanted to drive one of those big 18-wheelers. 10-4 good buddy...I'm westbound and down. Wooooooooo.)

Friday, March 26, 2010

Off To a Fast Start...

Spring has seemed to put a spring in my step, so I thought the timing was right to finally see if there’s anything to all this C25K business.

For the uninitiated, C25K stands for “Couch to 5K”, which evokes the image of a gentle program where you’ll slowly and gradually evolve from a fat TV-watching toadstool into a lithe marathon sprinter.

I had my doubts about the whole thing because I was burned pretty badly by the whole Y2K experience, you know when the calendar hit 2000 and all the computers and ATMs were supposed to go kablooey. I was so afraid that my laptop was going to get the Millennium Bug that I took a hammer to it and destroyed it myself. I’ll go ahead and admit that that was a bad call on my part…

So it was with a sense of apprehension that I approached C25K. Truthfully, I expected Day One of the program to skew toward the “Couch” part of the equation. After all, this is something geared at beginners, isn’t it?

Here’s kind of what I was expecting…
  • DAY ONE – Stay on the couch for four hours, but make certain you do not fall asleep during the entire time.

  • DAY TWO – Stay on the couch and watch a television show about running.

  • DAY THREE – Walk down to the mailbox and back. Get on the couch and take a nap.

  • DAY FOUR – Rest day.

  • DAY FIVE – Walk for one minute, think about running for one minute.

  • DAY SIX – Nap day.

  • DAY SEVEN – Egg neighbor’s house and run away as fast as you can. Walk for thirty seconds. Nap on couch.
I’m going to stick with it and try to see things through, but I can’t say that I’m overly enthusiastic with how this thing has started. I think a true C25K program needs to incorporate additional “couchiness” so that newbies don’t get frustrated and quit right off the bat.

Running for a minute at a time? And those 90-second walking intervals that incorporate alien “fast-forward” time technology so that they only last 15 seconds or so? And the street where I run only comes in miles, not kilometers. What do I do about that? Huh? Huh?

I guess for the time being, I’ll just take it all in stride…

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Mind Games

I firmly believe that 90% of this weight-loss business is mental, and that if you can win the battle with your brain, your chances of success are a great deal higher.

With that in mind, here are some mental “games” you can play to help keep you dialed in and focused on the task at hand…

  • When you’re at the gym, pretend that one of the other people there is a murderer. Ask questions to the people around you and see if you can guess who it is (hint: the murderer likes the treadmill).
  • Try e-a-t-i-n-g in s-l-o-w m-o-t-i-o-n.
  • Whenever you’re in a restaurant, imagine disgruntled, low-paid employees are in the back spitting on your food (if it helps you, there probably really are disgruntled, low-paid employees in the back spitting on your food).
  • You = Godzilla. Baby carrots = screaming Asians.
  • Give yourself a point every time you don’t eat a corn chip.
  • You’ll get a better workout from a highly motivated personal trainer, so before your session, inform your PT that you just keyed up his or her car.
  • Think of yourself as a real-life Ms. Pac-Man; you should eat healthy food (like cherries) and go running every day (so ghosts don’t catch and kill you).
  • Every time you get an email, drink an 8 oz. glass of water.
  • Imagine that fresh ripe succulent fruit is something delicious instead.
  • Work out with your imaginary friend Sergio and his pet Chihuahua Miss Tizzy.
  • Run a mile every time you use a swear word.
  • It’s more exciting if you think of your salad as actually being in 3-D.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

POM’s Away

The fine folks at POM Wonderful keep sending me samples of their pomegranate juice no matter what awful things I say about it. I give up, POM. I celebrate your tart, high-calorie goodness. No longer will I ever refer to your product as "purple urine". In fact, you've got me feeling like a song...

I'm sorry POM Wonderful and Gap Band

I couldn’t believe it, when I received it.
You sent free juice to me.
Lo and behold, it was still cold.
That juice you sent to me.
Had to blog about it, baby.

You dropped some POM on me, baby.
You dropped some POM on me (kept it cold, baby).
You dropped some POM on me, baby.
You dropped some POM on me.

You like me enough, to send free stuff.
You dropped some POM on me.
Just take a drink, oh a slurp’ll do,
It'll make you think, man, I love this purple brew.

You dropped some POM on me, baby.
You dropped some POM on me (kept it cold, baby).
You dropped some POM on me, baby.
You dropped some POM on me.

You guys began it, with the pomegranate.
You made it delicious, you say it’s nutritious.
It’s real good juice, good with Grey Goose.
Tastes good to me, baby, but so high calorie.
You dropped some POM, hey, babe.

You dropped some POM on me, baby.
You dropped some POM on me (love free swag, baby).
You dropped some POM on me, baby.
You dropped some POM on me (just fill my bag, baby).

You dropped some POM on me, baby (Mmm).
You dropped some POM on me (you dropped the POM on me, baby).
You dropped some POM on me, baby.
You dropped some POM on me.

It’s makes good sense, those antioxidants.
You are the juice for me.
Tastes good with Sprite, the price was right.
You are the juice for me.
Can you send me some more, baby?

Drop more POM on me, baby.
Come drop some POM on me (
Drop more POM on me, baby….
You dropped some POM on me (I wont forget what you done to me, babe)

You dropped some POM on me, baby
You dropped some POM on me
You dropped some POM on me, baby
You dropped some POM on me

I-I-I was glad to get it
I-I-I wont forget it

You dropped some POM on me, baby
Thanks for dropping POM on me
You dropped some POM on me, baby
Whoops, I got some POM on me.

I-I-I wont forget it
So-so-so glad to get it.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Confessions of a Compulsive Blogger

Just a quick heads up to let you know that I've got a guest post up at Confessions of a Compulsive Eater.

Seems I never get tired of hearing myself blog...

A Visit by H.F. Conesirrup

“Excuse me?”

“I say, I say, what’s the matta wid you, boy?”

“Ummmmmmm, who are you what are you doing in my grocery cart?”

“Me? I’m just restin’ ya dawgs, son.”

“Yeah, well… who are you?

“Name’s H.F. Conesirrup, boy, and I’m here ta hep you with yo grocery shoppin’.”

“Why does this kinda stuff always happen to me?”

“Lookit here son, I say son, I was goina ask you what all these expensive doo-dads is doing in yo cahwt.”

“What the…?”

“All nat-you-rawl juice, hex-pensive granola bahhs, all kinds a fresh produce. This cahwt’s just an atrocity, that’s what it is.”

“What do you think should be buying?”

“Good stuff, son. Good stuff, like crème-filled cakes and chocolate-dipped fun bars, suh. That’s what everybody lahks.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Ya got a hole in your glove, son. I keep pitchin' 'em and you keep missin' 'em. Ya gotta keep your eye on the ball. Eye. Ball. I almost had a gag, son. Joke, that is. Now lookit this cahton a ice cream. It’s low-fat just lahk you lahk.”

“No thanks.”

"There's something kind of 'eee-yew' about a boy who doesn't like ice-cream."

“Yeah, but check out the ingredients. High fructose corn syrup.”

“What’s wrong with a little natch-urawl cone sirrup?”

“High fructose corn syrup is about as far from natural as you can get; it takes high heat, three different enzymes and five different processes to create it.”

“Awwwww, that’s not so bad.”

“Because high fructose corn syrup is so far removed from a natural food, it fails to stimulate leptin, the hormone that makes you feel full. It also increases ghrelin, a stomach hormone that stimulates your appetite and reduces adiponectin levels (a hormone made by fat cells that helps make you more sensitive to insulin and helps control your weight and appetite).”

“Well, I say… well…”

“It spikes your triglyceride levels, lowering your levels of “good cholesterol” (HDL) and increases your levels of LDL-B cholesterol (or “bad cholesterol”). And the list goes on and on….”

“I dunno, boy. I’d say you’re more mixed up than a feather in a whirlwind.”

“Look, there’s plenty of info out there about the subject. Just do a little research for yourself. Hey what are you doing now?”

“I’m gonna find someone else to talk to. You’ve got my tailfeathers riled up.”

“Maybe we can discuss “organics” instead…”

“Go, I say go away, son, ya bother me!”

Monday, March 22, 2010

Lighten Up

They say laughter is the best medicine, but I think it makes a pretty damned effective weight-loss aid as well.

What we’re doing is hard work, and the seriousness of the uphill climb we’re undertaking can sometimes get us down.

But you can lose those pounds without losing your sense of humor, can break through your weight-loss goals and still crack a smile.

I asked some of the funny folks I know to chime in with their silly stories about their stalemates and setbacks, their falling and failing.

Voltaire said “God is a comedian, playing to an audience too afraid to laugh.”

Don’t be scared to yuk it up a little during this journey of yours, no matter how interminable and irritating it may seem at times.

Sometimes you just gotta laugh to keep on dieting.

Sally Costa from Mais Fica (More For Me):

One day, I had to get a little more “dressed up” than usual. And because I was wearing a dress, this situation included pouring myself into the Spanx (A.K.A. The Body Sausage). Overall, I was feeling waaay cool and pretty confident because I had lost twenty-five pounds on Weight Watchers. I wasn't to goal---yet, but I was feeling HOT, if I do say so myself. So anyway, there I am, hair perfectly coiffed, fully made-up with my red lipstick perfectly applied. And I? AM WRESTLING SAID BODY SAUSAGE OVER MY THIGHS (Lord.Have.Mercy! I can't breathe!) and s-t-r-u-g-g-l-i-n-g to pull it up over my arse, when SUDDENLY, the frickin’ sausage casing snaps out of my right hand as I am yanking it up over my torso and BAM! I punched myself in the face! And the worst thing is, I didn't just punch myself in the face! I punched myself in the mouth...and I smeared all of my lipstick UP MY FACE, UNDER MY NOSE, AND ALL OVER MY RIGHT CHEEK. I looked like a cheap floozy who'd been making out with some horny dude in the back seat of a 1987 Camaro (the year I graduated from high school----ah...the memories....). Seriously. Needless to say, my self-imposed hotness? Shot.To.Crap. And the next morning, my “hot mess” self was back on the treadmill because I realized that I am–and will always be–a work in progress.

GunDiva from Just Another Perfect Day:

A few years ago, I was working out with a personal trainer. This guy was gorgeous. And I mean gorgeous.

I hated him. With every fiber of my being I hated that gorgeous a**hat. Which, I guess, means that he was doing his job.

One day, about a week into me being tortured by him (I mean, receiving his expertise as a trainer), we'd been working on arms pretty heavily. By the time we were done, I couldn't lift my arms; they were Jell-O. And not the hard-set stuff, the liquidy warm Jell-O.

We moved onto the fitball to do some ab work. I was *thrilled* because it meant that my poor Jell-O arms would get a break. Never in my life have I been so happy to work on my abs. Never.

I finished up on the fitball and he said, “Okay, let's move to the mat and do some floor work.”

“No problem”, I thought, “I'll just roll right off the fitball onto the mat.”

I forgot to check with my Jell-O arms before I made that decision. I rolled to my right, off of the fitball, and my Jell-O arms betrayed me. I literally rolled off of the fitball right smack-dab onto my face on the mat. I told my arms to move to help break the fall. They just laughed at me and let me fall.

Steve at 265 And Falling:

A few years go I saw an ad in one of those Sunday newspaper inserts for Apple Cider Vinegar pills, which were being touted as a wonderful all natural thing that can help weight loss. I was intrigued, but I didn't see the point in buying pills when we actually had Apple Cider Vinegar in the house. So right then and there, I filled a small shotglass with vinegar, and downed it.

OHMYGODWHYINTHEF*CKDIDIJUSTDOTHAT?! It tasted horrible (and the taste lingered!) and seriously burned like a MFer.

I never did it again, but did I learn my lesson? A few years later I read somewhere that hot sauce can have the same effect on your appetite, and can help boost your metabolism. Sure, you can put hot sauce on your food...but if you take it straight the effects will be greater, right?


To their credit, both things did kill my appetite for a few hours, but I'm assuming they probably killed my esophageal track too, so I wouldn't recommend it. Weight loss FAIL.

Tricia from Fight Fat Phobia:

When I lost my last job, which was as casual as they come, I was in dire need of some “interview” clothes. I rushed out to Catherine’s, last paycheck in hand, and hastily bought two pairs of the biggest work slacks they had in stock. They just BARELY fit, but enough for me to cover with a long blouse and get out there and find some work! Well, it turned out to be a rather long unemployment phase. Nothing drastic, but at least 4-5 months. Those months were full of Weight Watcher-y goodness and I had lost about 50 pounds from diet, exercise and being too broke to buy junk food. Finally I landed a job! It’s the one I still have now, actually. But I was REALLY broke and I did NOT have money for new fancy work pants. Maybe you can see where this is going... ANYWAY, fast forward about a week and I was in the lunchroom getting a snack and some water on my break. I stopped at a table to converse with the “cool” girl in E-Banking that I was dutifully trying to turn into my new best friend. I walked out, giant water cup (no lid) in one hand, sliced apple in the other and it happened. Pants…on the ground. I mean, full force of gravity, whoomp-there-it-is pants.on.ground. Like any reasonable person, I froze. My hands were full and my brain was dead so there would be no quick recovery here. I locked eyes with the E-Banker, sitting there mouth open staring at me in my ratty-ass Girdle (yes, some people still wear these.) As I stood there wishing for instant death while surely she wished for blindness, I did the totally smart thing to do when you want to NOT draw attention to yourself: drop your giant cup-o-water thus creating a hallway tsunami. Sure, most people might drop the apple, but then against, most people would probably wear a belt…what’s your point? I guess I’m lucky no one else really saw and that girl didn’t turn out to be much of a squealer, thank goodness. About 800 paper towels and a bottle of Xanax later, it was like it never happened! Since that day, I’ve been working hard to gain back about 60 pounds so I never have to worry about my pants falling down again! Boy, I sure showed those pants who’s boss! Oh wait…

Josie at Yum Yucky:


I did not plan to exercise, but my story ends in uber-exercising, so it totally counts.

It was 1996. I was young, dumb, and broke.

But ohhh! It was also a beautiful day, so I headed out of the door of my 3rd floor abode at Ghetto Apartments to go wash my car.

I scrounged up $3 in quarters, because at the self-serve, $3 is all you need to get the squirter-hose to activate. Too bad I didn't realize I'd have to scrub and rinse at the speed of light to make that $3 last.

The squirter-hose stopped operating with my car in full suds. Time's up! Insert more coins if you want a rinse. But I had none.

My car was black, but it looked completely white from being heavily soaked in suds. People started to stare, and I'm embarrassed now, so I quick jump in my car and drive home. Suds are flying all over the road and hitting peoples' windshields. I'm crouching low in the seat so no one can see that it's me.

Then I finally arrive back at Ghetto Apartments (I hated that damn place). I grabbed a bucket from house, then trekked up and down those three flights of stairs about 15 times until the car was fully rinsed.

See, I told ya there would be exercise. Stair climbing is a b!tch when you've got a pail of water in your hand and a crowd of neighbors watching.

I burned 6,187 calories that day. Mostly from embarrassment.

Ryan at No More Bacon:

Have you ever been in so much pain you were willing to sacrifice your future children for some much needed relief?

I have. And it came after an incredibly intense workout. I think during the course of whatever acrobatic moves my trainer subjected me to (that really no fat guy should do) I pulled literally all 90,000,000 muscles in my body (90,000,000 was the estimated number I came up with because I heard it takes 37 muscles to smile but only 13 to fart).

The point is I hurt bad and needed to do something so I could sit on the toilet again without using the towel rack as a support bar.

An ice bath was my only option. I did it. I hated it. My “boys” hated it even more. My muscles loved it but the jury is still out on fathering children ever again. I'm still waiting on the results from Maury.

Gigi from Chunky Monkey Mama:

When I worked at a Wall Street firm, we used to have a quaint little phrase for being canned. We called it "being shot". One day, word went out that the workforce was being "streamlined" and the big bosses were going to each branch office with their "guns". All worker bees were advised to keep their heads down lest they fall in the cross hairs. Sure enough, the bosses arrived at our office around noon, someone yelled "duck", I thought they said "lunch", stood up and got "shot". Moral of the story: Always keep a snack in your desk drawer.

Who said losing weight is no laughing matter?

Besides being just generally hilarious, all of these bloggers are just overall good folks whose stories I’d encourage you to follow.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Why Me?

Weekly weigh-in: -------
Loss: ----
Total loss: ------
Emotion: -------

I was pleasantly surprised that this post seemed to have launched a sh*tload of deep, introspective stories throughout the weight-loss blogosphere. Besides giving me a bump of pride, it made for some awfully good reading.

I probably should take a stab at answering my own questions, but I simply don’t have enough hours in the day, what with all the time I’m having to spend not weighing in and not doing the math of how much I lost this week. In case you’re new here or have the same sort of short-term memory as me, I’ve put the scale away for the month of March as I concentrate on strength-training.

Whenever I lift weights, my scale starts acting all funny (and by funny, I mean that it registers a gain). Oh, I know the drill: “Muscle weighs more than fat. Muscle weighs more than fat. Muscle weighs more than fat.” Still, I can’t see the scale climb up without crapping my pants, so I’m flying blind this month.

And as for the “why” questions, there’s only one that holds my interest these days: “why am I gonna keep it off this time when I haven’t in the past?”

You see, I have a history of losing lots of weight and then turning around, almost immediately actually, and gaining it right back. It makes no sense, but that seems to be the way I seem to roll.

But I’ve never enjoyed the kind of success I’m seeing right now, never felt better or more confident about my future than I do right now.

If you’re reading these words, then I give you partial credit for my achievement as well. I don’t want to gain it back for a lot of reasons, but one of the big ones is that I don’t want to tell you that I’ve failed. Kinda silly, huh? I mean, we don’t really know each other, but I still feel like if I gained it back, I’d be letting you down.

I’d be letting us both down.

So I’m going to keep doing my crazy thang on this blog, and keep doing those things – eating less, eating a little healthier, exercising more – that I know will work for me, for you, for anybody.

And that’s why I’m going to keep succeeding.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

A Serious Post That Lost Its Way

Welcome to "Same Old Sh*t" Saturday where I drag something out of the archives (usually kicking and screaming) while I'm out doing something completely nonproductive. I wrote this post as a serious one, but wasn't happy with it, so I messed with it. And messed with it. And messed with it. I'm not sure I improved it all that much, but I did have a lot of fun in the process.

I’m not going to be happy until I lose this weight, and even then I’m not going to be happy. I’m not going to be satisfied–I mean really good and satisfied–until you lose this weight, too.

I read somewhere that repetition is the key to learning, so I’m going to tell you something, but I really want you to remember it, so I’m going to repeat it over and over. Now, I know you don’t have a super long attention span, so you won’t stay with me if I just repeat the same message over and over, so I’m going to change it up a little each time. My hope is that, if you hang with it, the basic premise of the message will soak through your thick skull. Hey, I may not know what I’m doing, but at least I’m trying…

Rise up and meet this day with courage and conviction, my friend. You’ve had a bumpy road of it up until now, but circumstances are about to change for the better. Why? Because you are going to change them. You’re going to buckle down and figure out some way to wrestle these disturbing and destructive demons to the ground. You’re going to start making some serious strides toward your goals and you’re going to start right away. There’s no time like the present, baby, and the present just pulled in front of your house right this second. Shift it into high gear and let’s finally get this party started for real. I’m tired of reading about your two-steps-forward, one-step-back tango… get going and show me, show us all, that you’ve got what it takes to make some magic happen. You know what you need to do, but apparently you needed somebody to give you a gentle nudge in the right direction. Here it comes: WHAT THE F*CK ARE YOU WAITING FOR? GET GOING ALREADY! Sorry to yell, but this stuff works me up like nobody’s business.

* * *

Wise up and meet this day wif couwage and conviction, my fwiend. You’ve had a bumpy woad of it up untiw now, but ciwcumstances awe about to change fow the bettew. Why? Because you awe going to change them. You’we going to buckwe down and figuwe out some way to wwestwe these distuwbing and destwuctive demons to the gwound. You’we going to stawt making some sewious stwides towawd youw goaws and you’we going to stawt wight away. Dewe’s no time wike the pwesent, baby, and the pwesent just puwwed in fwont of youw house wight this second. Shift it into high geaw and wet’s finawwy get this pawty stawted fow weaw. I’m tiwed of weading about youw two-steps-fowwawd, one-step-back tango… get going and show me, show us aww, that you’ve got what it takes to make some magic happen, uh-hah-hah-hah. You know what you need to do, but appawentwy you needed somebody to give you a gentwe nudge in the wight diwection, uh-hah-hah-hah. Hewe it comes: WHAT DE F*CK AWE YOU WAITING FOW? GET GOING AWWEADY! Sowwy to yeww, but this stuff wowks me up wike nobody’s business. Oh, dat scwewy wabbit!

* * *

Rise up and meet this day wiv courage and conviction, my mate. Yer’ve 'ad a bumpy frog and toad of it up until now, but circumstances are about ter change for the better. I'll get out me spoons. Why, then, eh, luv? Because yor gonna change them. Yer’re gonna buckle dahn and figure out some way ter wrestle these disturbin' and destructive demons ter the ground. Yer’re gonna start makin' some serious strides toward yor goals and yer’re gonna start right oray. There’s no time like the present, baby, and the present just pulled in front of yor 'ouse right this second. Shift it into 'igh gear and let’s finally cop this knees-up started for real. I’m tired of readin' about yor two-steps-forward, one-step-back tango… cop gahn and show me, right, show us all, that yer’ve got wot it takes ter make some magic 'appen. Yer know wot yer need ter do, but apparently yer needed some fairy ter give yer a gentle nudge in the bleedin' right direction, init? Here it comes: WHAT THE F*CK ARE YOU WAITING FOR, isit? GET GOING ALREADY! Blimey! Sorry ter yell, but this stuff works me up like no bloke’s business.

* * *

Rise up an' meet this hyar day wif courage an' cornvickshun, mah friend, cuss it all t' tarnation. Yo'’ve had a bumpy road of it up until now, but circumstances is about t'change fo' th' better. Whuffo'? On account o' yer a-gonna change them, dawgone it. Yo'’re a-gonna buckle down an' figger out some way t'wrestle these disturbin' an' destruckive demons t'th' groun'. Yo'’re a-gonna start makin' some serious strides toward yer goals an' yo'’re a-gonna start right away. Thar’s no time like th' present, baby, an' th' present jest pulled in front of yer house right this hyar second, cuss it all t' tarnation. Shif' it into high gear an' let’s finally git this hyar party started fo' real, ah reckon. I’m tired of readin' about yer two-steps-fo'ward, one-step-back tango… git gwine an' show me, show us all, thet yo'’ve got whut it takes t'make some magic happen, as enny fool kin plainly see. Yo' knows whut yo' need t'do, but apparently yo' needed somebody t'give yo' a juntle nudge in th' right direckshun. Hyar it comes: WHAT THE F*CK ARE YOU WAITING FOR? GET GOING ALREADY! Fry mah hide! So'ry t'yell, but this hyar stuff wawks me up like nobody’s business.

* * *

Reese-a up und meet thees dey veet cuoorege-a und cunfeecshun, my freeend. Bork bork bork! Yuoo’fe-a hed a boompy rued ooff it up unteel noo, boot curcoomstunces ere-a ebuoot tu chunge-a fur zee better. Hurty flurty schnipp schnipp! Vhy? Becoose-a yuoo ere-a gueeng tu chunge-a zeem. Yuoo’re-a gueeng tu boockle-a doon und feegoore-a oooot sume-a vey tu vrestle-a zeese-a deestoorbing und destroocteefe-a demuns tu zee gruoond. Bork bork bork! Yuoo’re-a gueeng tu stert mekeeng sume-a sereeuoos streedes tooerd yuoor guels und yuoo’re-a gueeng tu stert reeght evey. Bork bork bork! Zeere-a’s nu teeme-a leeke-a zee present, beby, und zee present joost poolled in frunt ooff yuoor huoose-a reeght thees secund. Bork bork bork! Sheefft it intu heegh geer und let’s feenelly get thees perty sterted fur reel. I’m tured ooff reedeeng ebuoot yuoor tvu-steps-furverd, oone-a-step-beck tungu… get gueeng und shoo me-a, shoo us ell, thet yuoo’fe-a gut vhet it tekes tu meke-a sume-a megeec heppee. Yuoo knoo vhet yuoo need tu du, boot epperently yuoo needed sumebudy tu geefe-a yuoo a gentle-a noodge-a in zee reeght durecshun. Here-a it cumes: VHET THE F*CK ERE YOOo VEITING FOR? GET GOING ELREEDY! Surry tu yell, boot thees stooffff vurks me-a up leeke-a nubudy’s booseeness. Um gesh dee bork, bork!

* * *

Rise up `n` meet this day with courage `n` conviction, my mate. You’ve had a bumpy road of it up until now, but circumstances are about ta change for the better. Why? Because ya are going ta change them. You’re going ta buckle down `n` figure out some way ta wrestle these disturbing `n` destructive demons ta the ground. You’re going ta start making some serious strides toward your goals `n` you’re going ta start right away. There’s no time like the Prezzy, nipper, `n` the Prezzy just pulled in front of your house right this second. Shift it into high gear `n` let’s finally get this rage started for dinkum. I’m tired of reading about your two-steps-forward, one-step-back tango… get going `n` show me, show us all, that you’ve got what it takes ta make some magic happen. You know what ya need ta do, but apparently ya needed somebody ta give ya a gentle nudge in the right direction. Here it comes: WHAT THE F*CK ARE YOU WAITING FOR? GET GOING ALREADY! Sorry ta yell, but this stuff works me up like nobody’s bizzo.

* * *


* * *

Rise up `n` meet dis day wif courage `n` conviction, my friend. Yew’ve had a bumpy road of it up until now, but circumstances aur about ta change fer da better. Why? Because yew aur going ta change em. Yew’re going ta buckle down `n` figure out some way ta wrestle dese disturbin `n` destructive demons ta da ground. Yew’re going ta start makin some serious strides toward yore goals `n` yew’re going ta start right away. yonder’s no time lik da present, baby, `n` da present just pulled in front of yore house right dis second. Shift it inta high gear `n` let’s finally git dis party started fer real. I’m tard of reading about yore two-steps-forward, one-step-back tango… git going `n` show me, show us all, dat yew’ve got whut it tekks ta make some magic happen. Yew know whut yew need ta do, but apprrrntly yew needed somebody ta give yew a gentle nudge in da right darction. cheer it cumes: whut da F*CK Aur Yew WAItin FOR? git GOING ALREADY! Sorry ta yell, but dis stuff works me up lik nobody’s business.

* * *

Rise up and meet this day wit' courrrage and conviction, me bucko, and a bottle of rum! You’ve had a bumpy sea o' it up until now, but cirrrcumstances be about t' be changin' ferrr th' betterrr, and a bottle of rum! Why in th' name o' Davy Jones? Because ye be charrrtin' a courrrse t' be changin' them, and a bottle of rum! You’rrre charrrtin' a courrrse t' buckle down and figurrre out a bit way t' wrrrestle 'ese 'errredisturrrbin' and destrrructive demons t' th' grrround, and a bottle of rum! You’rrre charrrtin' a courrrse t' set sail makin' a bit serrrious strrrides towarrrd yerrr goals and ye’rrre charrrtin' a courrrse t' set sail starrrboarrrd away, and a bottle of rum! Therrre’s arrrgh time like th' prrresent, baby, and th' prrresent jus' pull'd in frrront o' yerrr vessel starrrboarrrd this second, and a bottle of rum! Shift it into high gearrr and let’s finally get this parrrty starrrt'd ferrr rrreal, and a bottle of rum! I’m tirrr'd o' rrreadin' about yerrr two-steps-forrrwarrrd, one-step-bac kie tango… get charrrtin' a courrrse and be showin' in th' salty sea me, be showin' in th' salty sea us all, that tharrrye’ve got what in th' name o' Davy Jones it plunderrrs t' be makin' a bit magic happen, and a bottle of rum! Ye be knowin' what in th' name o' Davy Jones ye ne'd t' do, but apparrrently ye need'd somebody t' be givin' ye a gentle nudge in th' starrrboarrrd dirrrection, and a bottle of rum! Herrre it comes: WHAT THE F*CK ARE YOU WAITING FOR? GET GOING ALREADY! Sorrrrrry t' yell, but this booty man the decks me up like nobody’s business, and a bottle of rum!

* * *

Rise up an' meet dis day wi' courage an' convicshun, me mucker. you’ve 'ad a bumpy road av it up 'til nigh, but circumstances are aboyt ter change for de better. why? cos yer are gonna change dem. You’re gonna buckle down an' figure oyt sum way ter wrestle dees disturbin' an' destructive demons ter de groun'. you’re gonna start makin' sum serious strides toward yisser goals an' you’re gonna start roi away. there’s naw time loike de present, sprog, an' de present jist pulled in front av yisser gaff roi dis second. shift it into 'igh gear an' let’s finally git dis party started for rayle. i’m knackered av readin' aboyt yisser two-steps-forward, one-step-back tango… git 'eadin' an' show me, show us al', dat you’ve got waaat it takes ter make sum magic 'appen. yer nu waaat yer nade ter chucker, but apparently yer needed somebody ter gie yer a gentle nudge in de roi direcshun. 'ere it comes: waaat de f*ck ye waitin' for? git 'eadin' already! sorry ter yell, but dis stuff weurks me up loike nobody’s business.

* * *

Rise ^ & MEt DIS dA w courage & conviction, my frNd. You’ve had a bumpy rd. of it ^ untl nw, bt cRcumstNcs R bout 2 chAng 4 d BetA. Y? cuz U R goin 2 chAng dem. You’re goin 2 buckle dwn & figur out som way 2 wrestle dEz disturbing & destructive demons 2 d ground. You’re goin 2 stRt makin som Cres strides 2wRd yor goals & you’re goin 2 stRt rght awA. There’s n tym lIk d presnt, ~:o, & d presnt jst puLD n frnt of yor hows rght DIS 2nd. Shift it in2 hI gear & let’s finalE git DIS pRT stRtD 4 real. I’m tired of rEDN bout yor two-steps-forward, one-step-back tango… git goin & shO me, shO us aL, dat you’ve got wot it tAkz 2 mAk som magic hpn. U knO wot U nEd 2 do, bt apparently U nEdD sumbody 2 GIV U a gentle nudge n d rght directN. hEr it cumz: wot d F*CK R U w8N 4? git goin alredi! SBTA 2 yell, bt DIS stuff worx me ^ lIk nobody’s Biz.

* * *

Rise down and meet dis day wid courage and convicshun, mah' homey. You's’ve had some bumpy road uh it down until now, but circumstances is about t'change fo' de better. Ah be baaad... Why? A'cuz ya' is goin' t'change dem. WORD! You's’re goin' t'buckle waaay down and figure out some way t'wrestle dese disturbin' and destructive demons t'de ground. You's’re goin' t'start makin' some serious strides toward yo' goals and ya'’re goin' t'start right away. Slap mah fro! Dere’s no time likes de present, baby, and da damn present plum pulled in front uh yo' crib right dis second. Shift it into high gear and let’s finally dig dis party started fo' real. I’m tired uh readin' about yo' two-steps-fo'ward, one-step-back tango… dig goin' and show me, show us all, dat ya'’ve gots whut it snatch'd t'make some magic happen. 'S coo', bro. You's know whut ya' need t'do, but apparently ya' needed some fool t'cut ya' some gentle nudge in de right direcshun. Here it comes, dig dis: WHAT THE F*CK ARE YOU WAITING FOR? GET GOING ALREADY! Right on! So'ry t'yell, but dis stuff wo'ks me down likes nobody’s business.

* * *

Rise up and meet this day with courage and conviction, my friend. You’ve had a bumpy road of it up until now, but circumstances are about to change for the better. Why? Because you are going to change them. You’re going to buckle down and figure out some way to wrestle these disturbing and destructive demons to the ground. You’re going to start making some serious strides toward your goals and you’re going to start right away. There’s no time like the present, baby, and the present just pulled in front of your house right this second. Shift it into high gear and let’s finally get this party started for real. I’m tired of reading about your two-steps-forward, one-step-back tango… get going and show me, show us all, that you’ve got what it takes to make some magic happen. You know what you need to do, but apparently you needed somebody to give you a gentle nudge in the right direction. Here it comes: WHAT THE F*CK ARE YOU WAITING FOR? GET GOING ALREADY! Sorry to yell, but this stuff works me up like nobody’s business.

Get it? Got it? Good.

Friday, March 19, 2010

How Committed Am I Now?

  • I am infinity percent committed.
  • I have completely given up on the idea of ever giving up.
  • I am committed with a capital “K”.
  • When I am lying cold in my grave, I will still be trying with all my might not to gain weight.
  • I am so determined that my nickname is The Determinator.
  • I have more purpose than a porpoise (wow, that made sense at 2 a.m. when I wrote it…).
  • The three most committed people I know? Me, myself and Ira, the guy that cuts my hair.
  • I’ve so committed, I make Braveheart look like Afraidheart.
  • If I fail, I guarantee that I will give every single reader here his or her money back.
  • “The quality of a person's life is in direct proportion to their commitment to excellence, regardless of their chosen field of endeavor” (I am so committed right now that I completely plagiarized this Vince Lombardi quote).
  • I have more focus than an optometrist.
  • My wife says I have “fearless commitment” and I think that just about sums it… huh? What’s that, Anita? You said “fear of commitment”? Will you please stay outta this?
  • I am dauntless. Yes, that means that I am completely without daunts.
  • You might be committed, but I’m even committeder.
  • My backbone is forged out of titanium and reinforced with… um… more titanium.
  • If I were a superhero, I would be Commitment-Man… no… Commander Commitment… no wait… Captain Commitment.
  • “Commitment” is my middle name (not really… “F’n” is my middle name… it’s short for “Franklin”).


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