Who Hasn't?

I lost my friggin mind the other day. It's like I turned into one giant stomach or something.

I woke up early. I decided to eat a good breakfast that morning 'cause that's what "they" tell you ya oughtta do. Well, I ate, and it seemed to ignite my appetite. Like I had a tip on a famine or something!

I needed sweets. I ate sweets. Then, of course, we had to wash that down with something salty, right? Then it was pizza, then a candy bar, then I had to have a Pepsi, then a cupcake 'cause I read about a cupcake crawl that someone went on (then gotta have milk, right?) Then it was dinner time, had to sample all the menu items, then eat them. Then Pop was hungry, wanted French Toast, and of course that looked good so I made a little extra for me. And, of course, who doesn't want desserts. Yah, plural.

Whew.

Thank the Lord that there were only 24 hours in that day, and the sun went down. I went to bed. I'd eaten enough to be considered a small neighborhood.

I was a little grateful that the bed didn't collapse.

Something Fatty Going On...

Wait a minute...WAIT A MINUTE! Everywhere I go, I see people hauling around entire reservoirs of water, folks essentially eating nothing more than rabbit food, fancy bottled sports drinks, vitamin waters, rice cakes and worse. Everyone is either going to, or coming from, the gym. I see thousands of exercise equipment infomercials, diet plans, diet foods.

Now I'm sitting in the doc's office the other day, and the reading material on the tables is littered with countless articles about the national obesity epidemic.

Mention McDonald's, people will screw up their faces and say something like, "Ugh, I never eat there..." No one eats pizza, hot dogs, hamburgers, cake or ice cream anymore, despite the fact that some of the companies producing this kind of stuff are doing quite nicely on the bottom line. And I can assure you that White Castle isn't making $25 million dollars off of me alone. The typical American Daily Diet seems to consist of sawdust for breakfast, some lawn clippings for lunch, and a nice can of steam for dinner.

Week after week, People magazine has amazing stories of amazing weight losses, the airwaves are full of shows like "The Biggest Loser". It seems like every single human being on earth is on a diet.

So where is this "epidemic" coming from? Who's fat, for crying out loud?

We get no help from The Nutrition Gurus, folks. Remember a few years ago when they told us that eating eggs was only slightly less dangerous than eating the muzzle of a shotgun? EVERYONE EAT MARGARINE, they told us. Then trans-fats happened. They made a valiant attempt with artificial "fat" (Olestra, anyone?) but that made people poop their drawers, so scratch that. Although they're still making meals unappetizing, having transformed "meat and potatoes" to "protein and starch". Yum.

I'm thinking somewhere, somebody is either full of you-know-what, or there are a lot of people who are "closet eaters"!

All this organic food...is it being treated with the organic fertilizer generated by all the phony dieters?

I need to understand how, with this national obsession with caloric intake, we're now fatter than ever!

Talk to me, people.

I did lose 7 pounds since Christmas, by the way. Think I'll celebrate with some pie a la mode now...

A Big Fat HA!

I haven't posted much about my "weight-loss" program, because I haven't found a way to make it interesting, simple as that. But I'm still at it. At last check, I'm down 947 pounds, or I need a new scale...not sure.

I never have a problem with people who eat healthy, who stay in shape, etc. I just can't stomach the preachy ones. You know the type, they not only control their own diet, they want to dictate yours as well.

My diet isn't chock full of denials. There are some things I won't eat often, but there are few things I won't eat ever. One of my indulgences is a really good cheeseburger. I don't eat them a lot, but I'm always on the hunt for the "perfect" burger.

A few weeks ago, I had to hit the mall with a friend. I love her, but she's one of those holier-than-thou's when it comes to food. Granted, she's got a body to die for, but, well you know. Anyway, we hit a restaurant called Ruby Tuesdays, which I've been told has great burgers. So that's what I ordered. Of course, Ms Body ordered the Turkey Burger, while telling me that I ought to be doing the same. After I told her to be quiet, we ate our respective burgerage. So smug, she is!

Well, as luck would have it, today I caught a clip on the Today show. (how convenient). There was a guy running through the list of restaurant foods that are supposedly good for you. Ruby Tuesday's Turkey Burger was featured, and it was pointed out that someone who chose that sandwich would be better off (fat and calories-wise) to order two (2)Big Mac Sandwiches at McDonalds.

I can not wait to see her again.

Oh No Oreo

I have a little problem.

I am an Oreo nut. I love all things Oreo...cookies, ice cream, topping for ice cream. I'm convinced that if Nabisco made Oreo's that you could wear, I'd have my style all figured out. I love all the varieties, white, brown, mint, DoubleStuf, you name it.

That, however, is not the problem.

The problem is, I made room in my pantry for the new product pictured above. I saw the new box in the store, I purchased new box from store. Brought box home, opened it, poured milk, sat down and took bite.

So the problem?

I don't love them. There were no moans of ecstasy. Remember, now, that I am watching the old weight here, and this was one of those "non-denial" treats I allow myself now and then, so those are valuable.

I think I was actually annoyed there for a moment. The Cakesters are ok. But OreoThings aren't supposed to be "OK". They are supposed to be so good that people punch me to make me stop talking about how good they are.

Two disappointments here today. Britney Spears stunk it up on the VMA's last night, and Oreo Cakesters are not going to become an addiction for me.

(insert *whine* here)

Weight a Minute

Most of the time, people who obsess about dieting, eating, blahblahblah, usually spend a lot of time fighting that war. Again, I'm not Adonis, my body is sure to punish me whenever I let go of the dietary guidelines by keeping the fat around to remind me.

But I know from past experience that you can't spend every waking moment planning meals, dodging temptation, etc. It will drive you nuts. You have to live, you just have to modify how you live a little. You didn't get fat in three days, you're not going to reverse it in three days either. I'm not always patient, but when the right reasons come along, I can find patience in a big way.

I went to a very nice restaurant yesterday. Italian cuisine. Very nice. I ordered whatever I wanted, and then I ate just enough to be full and satisfied. That meant there was some food left on the plate. Yep, the "Clean Plate Club" is not something I belong to, and I put the knife and fork down when the belly said "No Vacancy". I had bread, Chicken Marsala, salad WITH DRESSING, and I even had some dessert, a fancy little recipe with a little cappucino mousse and cake mixed together. I didn't wipe it out...I had a few bites, about half the portion, and the brain said, "Okeydoke, that's plenty."

I went home feeling satisfied, and not on the hunt for something more to fill the void. Not a bad deal.

And, this morning, I exercised.

That awful word.

So, that's the Diet story for the day.

Reality Check

Well, I know one thing's inevitable: chicken. Lots and lots of chicken. I think it's just one of those things that get locked into the psyche: "if you're dieting, you gotta eat chicken." Chicken breast makes so, so many meals. Grilled, roasted, diced, caesar chicken salad, or chicken caesar salad.

You get the point. After a while I start scratching at the ground and sprouting feathers.

Of course, it's not the only thing that works for a diet. Hell, a lean steak is good for you if prepared properly. Turkey is ok, but tends to remind me of particleboard, and cold turkey breast can get funky in a hurry.

It's the fat-guy myths I gotta work on avoiding. Someone once told me that calories don't count if no one sees you eat them. Dumb. I remember another friend telling me I ought to sue Diet Coke since it didn't work. But of course, 2 cheeseburgers, french fries and a Diet Coke isn't exactly the formula, you know?

So yeah, pollo it is. A lot. At least in the first few weeks, until you realize that there is more to life than eating a bird, and creativity becomes the mother of recipe invention.

It also helps to stop being obsessed with whatever meal is next. Hey, yo-yo, that's what got you in trouble in the first place, ya know? Ya gotta just go on with life, spending just a few less minutes working out the chew muscles, and a few more paying attention to the others.

Fish is good. Just not tuna salad with 9000 pounds of mayo, ya know? That kind of thinking falls into the Diet Coke + anything you want = weightloss. We had a nutritionist at work for a while, and some lab proved that a 1/4 cheeseburger on a roll had less of the bad stuff than a tuna salad sandwich. Sigh.

But guess what? We're back to the bad word: exercise. Splenda may knock off a few calories, but crunches knock off the pounds. Yeah, exercise is the 700 pound gorilla that's not gonna move out and go away.

Yeah, when someone says, "What's that on the back of your leg" and the "that" turns out to be your ass, it's time to fight the gorilla.

And eat chicken.

So Anyway

Well, like I said, it isn't my intention to turn this into my personal weight-battle journal. But there are a couple of things I'm going to mention. There won't be endless recipes for rabbit food.

And I'm not about to reduce myself to grazing on monster salads for every meal.

Starving myself never worked. The experts make it very clear what happens to your metabolism when you try to starve the fat off. The body says, "Uh oh..." and it defends itself by slowing that metabolism down. Kinda not what we're going for here.

Now, I've had success with this whole thing before. I've actually been "there" a few times in my life, so I figure I'll go with what I know. I have to back off on the weight-training. After all, if I try to hoist big barbells with this brittle body...

I had some luck using this in the past. It's called the Ab-Doer. You can google it if ya wanna buy one. I promise this isn't some paid endorsement.

And this isn't a shock absorber. It's called a "bullworker" and it works with "isometrics". It won't turn you into Arnold, but with some dedication, it actually helps tone and tighten.

It's going to be a healthy diet mixed with a sensible exercise regime. No diet pills, no whacky supplements. Good food, a lot less sugar, and exercise. I say that bad word twice, because I tried to b.s. myself a few times in the past, thinking Dexatrim, or TrimSpa, or worse, would get my body in shape. It didn't and it won't. Nothing is going to shave the pounds off, (well, maybe a chainsaw might, but)except less calories and actual movement.

Oh and, yes, I did work out today. Ok, I exercised. Not ready to call this working out, just yet, ok?

And Then The Alarm Clock Rang...

There comes a time in every man's life...

Yeah I should write anything so profound. Not gonna happen. But my bell has been rung, and it's time to climb out of this dream I've been living. Or more appropriately, the hallucination I've been experiencing.

I bought into the whole "Be comfortable with who you are" thing. And you know what? For me, it's a crock. One big, fat crock. "Being comfortable with who you are", for me, is a cop-out. An admission of defeat. I was going to rant and rave about how the whole country is going soft, but, not this time. Nope, this is all about me.

And I, for one, am not comfortable in my own skin. Matter of fact, I'm pretty damned uncomfortable. Why?

Because nothing fits, dammit.

A couple of years ago, I got my body almost to the point of being what I considered acceptable. I was a fat kid in my pre-teen years. And you know what? I was miserable. Miserable because I couldn't keep up in sports, which is half of what boys that age are about, and I couldn't keep up in the girls department, which of course, is that other half of that equation.

I made my mind up that this wasn't going to work. Then with a combination of some hard work, some motivation by the opposite sex, and a timely growth spurt, I got in shape. REAL shape. Muscles and all.

I carried that into college, and then into the early part of my marriage. Since my wife was a "high-risk" pregnancy, the Doctor told me to keep her well nourished and well fed. And hey, can't leave her to eat alone, now, can I?

Well that was the beginning of the decline, which lasted a lot of years past the 3 pregnancies and deliveries. I have a teenaged daughter now. Time to let go of the baby fat, pal.

So, by about two years ago, I had accomplished a lot. I almost had a body again. I was doing the whole gym thing, knocked off some poundage of fat. And, as Mother Nature has a sense of humor, at the same time, some major parts of my body decided the warranty was up. Knees came apart, lower back exploded. Beautiful. There were malfunctions in body parts I didn't even know I had. So much for the comeback. Disability sucks. And the weight found its way back to me. Not all of it, but enough.

Now I'm not considered obese. Even by those insane Met Life weight charts. But this body is in tough shape. I don't like the way it looks, and when I see Matthew McConaughey running around like an adonis, I very much like my shirt on, thanks.

Now I noticed that a lot of the people spewing all this "love yourself" crap typically had their shirts on, too. And everytime I would read about someone "curvy" or "real", it was a sure bet that within two pages of that article was either another article about "amazing weight-loss stories", or a full-page ad for some diet plan.

Now, I'm not speaking for anyone else. No, folks, this is all about me, as I said earlier. If you're good with who you are, that's wonderful. Me, I think I let myself get soft, and then got really adept at rationalizing. And settling. For less.

I'm classified as "disabled" now. Oh yay. Got the blue parking thing to hang on the mirror. And I'd have every excuse to turn into a behemoth now. But it's all crap. I have a great rehab guy who is more than willing to chart out a fitness regimen for less-than-optimal bodies. And I have some friends who are more than willing to motivate me at a moment's notice should I ask.

So, I'm sorry, Dr. Phil, I can't buy it anymore. Men in good shape are every bit as "real" as the guys with the bellies. And let's face it Ladies, with all this "natural" "real" women stuff going around, don't think I didn't notice that People ran a "sexiest bachelors" issue recently, and there were no jelly rolls hanging over any of THEIR belts. Let's just keep it completely "real" here, ok?

I don't like the way I look. I don't like the way I feel. Obesity didn't suddenly become less dangerous to me because a bunch of life coaches figured out how to cash in on The Great National Insecurity. Cholesterol will stop the heart of someone who absolutely adores himself as quickly as it quits on the self-loathing types.

I'd much rather have a washboard under my shirt than a washing machine, thanks.

So yeah, I'm going to sleep tonight with the realization that it's time to wake up, stop kidding myself, and crank it up. I might bore ya more than usual now, by including the occasional progress report, but my brain is still Stupid, so I wouldn't count on that too much.

Passing Fancy?

The way things always seem to happen in this country, something comes along and attracts some attention. Usually starts with a small group somewhere, catches on slowly but surely, and before you know it, everyone is into it, people are talking about it everywhere. It permeates the culture, the fad becomes a craze, and even the most "un-hip" of people are singing its praises.

The something funny happens. Starts becoming obvious that it wasn't all it was cut out to be. It isn't as good for you as people thought, and because people didn't really listen, they were into it without knowing too much about it.

The fad starts to fade, and where you once thought it was the best thing ever, you now find empty shelves, and people who proclaimed it as gospel, now want pretty much nothing to do with it. The craze ends, and it pretty much goes away.

No, not HipHop, I'm talking about the Atkins Diet.