Go Steve Go
I heard said once that, “A man at rest is impossible to start.” Hell, I probably had that on one of my t-shirts a millennia ago. I don’t know, but I do know this; “at rest” is not a good way to be when I need to drop some weight. The thing is, I recognize a pattern that has developed over the course of the holiday season, a pattern of consumption.
It is still amazing to me, in light of all the introspection and self-analysis that the past few years have been absolutely filled with, that I couldn’t see this one come and somehow squelched it before it became a deafening crescendo of self-loathing and regret. Sure, a cookie here and some candy there may not seem like much incidentally– but gob-stuffing every time I pass a morsel creates a pattern that’s sure to end with me curled into the fetal position under my desk, eating my feelings washing it all down with a nog of tears.
So… the New Year has fully begun, vacations are over and our oven has gone cold. No more platters of cookies, bars, brownies, or other morsels of belt-busting, insulin-whoring goodness. No more readily available obesity-inducing clumps of heavenly health sabotage to indulge in or any more pie for my piehole. Time to create some new patterns.
Rock on.
Just finished week #7. Only two weeks to go.
I’m really started to enjoy the whole w25k thing– though my fondness may be a tad premature, having just completed week 2 day 2 of a 9-week program. Still, I’m upbeat and optimistic despite my legendary dour demeanor and am looking forward to Friday’s plod around the track.
Some kind folks have brought to my attention that they think I’m going back on the theme of my weight loss adventure by using a “program”. They tease by saying stuff like, “You’re kind of a hypocrite, what about your website and the whole “lose weight without plans, pills, classes, or surgery? Isn’t this c25k thing a plan? And besides, you’re ugly.” To which I reply, “I know you are but what am I? and “How about you plan to shut up?” through my sobbing and tears. The thing is, I think I’m probably more hippo and crit in this instance considering that the Couch to 5k program has nothing to do with weight loss, it’s purpose is to get my ass from the couch to the track and prepare me to run 5k. Losing weight, if I indeed lose any, will be more of a side-effect. Besides, I’m doing this more to have something additional I can do with my wife (she’s a runner).
Regardless, I don’t see it as a bad thing. It’s been enjoyable thus far and I feel as though my running endurance is improving.
Rock on.
I ran like the wind, I did. More like I made my own wind as my huffing and puffing mass displaced the molecules surrounding me as I jogged/walked/ran-the-stairs at the football stadium this morning. I figure that what I lack in style, grace, handsomeness, olfactory pleasantries, speed, and agility– I more than make up for in dogged determination and grunting. Yes, mine is a delicate balance of extremes.
Nevertheless, my morning was a trundling battle with gravity, momentum, and inertia that by measure of the Rorschach-stain of perspiration I was sporting by smoothie time, did me some good. And I need all the good I can get.
Rock on.
Long time, no read… er… write. Right? I mean, what the crap, Steve? Where’ve I been?
So here’s the thing. There are plenty of excuses as to why I haven’t written for a time. I had a fat tire. My dog did my homework. My cat was clairvoyant. My grandma was in the shop. OK, no not really. Mostly truthier still is that I’m a jerk. I have a life (of sorts– not one entirely of my choosing, mind you, but it seems to take all my time).
I’m (maybe mostly) sure that I’ve affirmed at some time or another during the course of committing words to page (for nigh on four freakin’ years now) that it isn’t so much what I’ve been doing, what matters most is what I am doing now and what I will be doing from now on– so here goes. This morning, only moments ago, I started a “Couch to 5K” program over at the track right after doing my normal routine at the gym. Why? More on that later. For now, let’s just say I was App Shopping and that it’s just an app I blundered across and installed on my iPhone. It looks easy enough at the onset and I’m dedicating November to it. As I go, I’m going to relay my impressions of the thing as an app and an activity to make myself feel relevant to my self and the betterment of my “Self”. Make sense? Say “yes” and I’ll ask that you explain it to me. Answer anything to contrary and you’ll have both my respect and a smugness I revile for as long as I remember its’ context.
It is my intention to make November a month of massive action. I’m taking on a pant-load of projects and activities in an attempt to ignite the shitpile of procrastination, clutter, and unrealized potential that has accumulated since wandering of the Path a little while back. Let’s see what happens.
Rock on.
So, the days roll on and I continue to plod on through; gym, smoothies, little plates, all that stuff I’ve learned over the past several years, etc. It has been quite a trip thus far and I have learned a lot though I’ve probably forgotten more than I’ve learned. I guess that is why I strive to write stuff down. Hey, sometime I may even read what I’ve written instead of just doing some kind of brain barf here on the keyboard and never looking at it again.
Hmm… why don’t I try it now? I mean, what was I like back in the day? Let me see… How about a little flash from the past….
An entry dated 9/27/2007 (a.k.a. “one of the good lo days)
(Day 129 / -83 lbs.) Failure is as Easy as Pie
Today was a track day and I was lucky to have been accompanied by my wife. She’s been recuperating from her first race last Saturday and was feeling good enough to give it a go. I’m really proud of her. She started running less than a year ago and she’s already competing- and placing. She placed 6th in her first race and is completely jazzed about continuing on to more competitions. She’s awesome!
With that kind of inspiration how can I possibly fail?
Easily. It’s all about choice.
I could have chosen to stay in bed this morning; cuddled up in my nice warm comforter, pillow just-right, room just cool enough. I chose instead to head to the track, hand in hand with my wife, to burn some calories.
I could have loaded up on pancakes, eggs and sausage for breakfast this morning. Instead I chose my usual protein smoothie.
I could sit here and snack on M&M’s while I work, but I won’t. I choose to stick to my plan and eat small, healthy meals at regular intervals throughout the day.
Choosing is such a simple activity. “I choose to make the right choices.” There, done. How simple was that? Notice I say simple rather than easy.
Choosing becomes easier when I consider the consequence/reward resulting from my choice. I know what happens when I sit all day and pound the M&M’s. I know how much better I feel after going to the track or the gym. I know how great I feel when I’m putting on a pair of pants that haven’t been able to wear in ten years- and they fit! I know. I know.
A simple choice yields either failure or success. I choose success.
Wow, that takes me back. I was such a fired-up mess. I hope to recapture some of the enthusiasm from yesteryear.
Rock on.
OK, all the dread, anxiety, focused procrastination, dietary flagellation, and self-loathing has finally come to fruition. I have arrived, paused at baggage claim, stepped to the curb, and flagged a cab. The sign reads, “Welcome to the other side of the hill, Decline, population: You.”
What I’ve discovered on this side of fifty thus far is that all the dread and anxiety was useless. Before Monday, what I dreaded was my birthday. I supposed if I were to focus my dread on anything from here on out, it would have to be my impending demise- whenever that will ultimately occur; because just as 50 was inevitable, my penultimate dirt nap is unavoidable. Should I dread or allow it to elevate my anxiety to mimic what I was feeling just a week ago? I don’t think so.
The thing is, I magnified the importance of turning fifty to a ridiculous level when, in reality, it was just another day. Fact is, that’s what they all are. The previous 1,376 days (since the day this misadventure began) have been a finite string of 24-hour containers of time. Their end was no more significant than their beginning, and just as inevitable as anything else. What is significant is the CONTENT of those 1,376 containers.
The question I have for myself is, “Why did I choose to fill all the gaps in those containers with such useless emotion?” I mean, anxiety? Of what use was that? Dread? Puh-lease! Aside from creating an almost overwhelming sense of urgency, those two emotional states are stymying at best, and crippling at less-than-best. Better to focus on making each moment better than the last than to freak out over a date.
That said, how did I do during my forty-ninth year? Simple answer is, worse than previous. I had such high hopes and lousy follow-through and, as a result, gained 14 pounds. 14! Damn! That I have a net loss of more than 130 lbs. (most of which was during the first year) is only mildly consoling. What is most important is why and what I’m going to do about it. So what am I going to do? Simply put, “It’s the food, Stupid (er, I mean Steve).” More specifically, too much of it. I have got to pull it back a bit as portion-wise. So here’s the deal: commit to recording every scrap of anything edible that makes it into my gullet. No ignorant mastication. No procrastination.
Starting tomorrow…
Rock on.
Tags: don't be a weenie, don't be a wuss, failure, goals, never say die, portion control | 
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Look at the top of the column on the right. Now look back. Look at the title of this entry. Now look back. Look at the picture of my last meal. Look back.
Thirty days left until my next birthday (which is a big deal for me goal-wise) and here I am at my favorite Indian restaurant for their awesome lunch buffet, practicing a crapload of self restraint and possibly my last helping of Chicken Marsala. In the past, I would have walked out after eating my weight in tandoori chicken nearly incapacitated by belly-bulge and self-loathing.
Not today. Today I’m pumped, jazzed, and laser beam focused on making these next thirty days the balls-to-the-walls-iest effort to normalcy that I can muster. The next month will be a lot more focused, energetic, and (hopefully) awesome.
Rock on.
131 lbs. lost
and I still have a ways to go!
No Diet Plans
No Pills
No Exercise Classes
No Surgery
Just Sensible Eating
and Exercise
MyFitnessPal - Nutrition Facts For Foods
