The Struggle

Two weeks. Two weeks since I last blogged. And I look at that last entry, and I just can't believe how far, both physically and mentally, I am from that post.

So... a few months ago, I moved. I wanted to be close to the girlfriend, so we decided that I'd move the 90 miles to be with her. Unfortunately, during that month of May, I really *really* started feeling nervous about that move. Would we work out? What about the job situation - drive that distance twice daily and commute, or find work down in her town? what about her son - how would I fit in with him, and him with me? And so I started having trouble sleeping at night. And then the weightloss had stalled out. And then, in a moment of weakness late one night, I made a bad choice.

I bought a pack of cigarettes.

It wasn't something I wanted to do, and I knew I was being dumb, but I'd still done it. And once I'd started, I found that I was able to find other reasons to continue going. I started feeling that I wasn't using them to help me get through the small pockets of anxiety - I'd slipped back into an addiction.

It didn't take long for The Gal to start inquiring. I don't know what exactly she saw/felt/smelled, but it didn't matter - she asked me.

And I made a bad decision worse - I lied.

I didn't want her to know. I thought that I could just quit. Yet every Monday would come and I'd find myself at work, holding out... then I'd fail. I'd go buy a pack. Just weak.

Again, The Gal asked if I was, only this time she'd mentioned that her mom had smelled it on me. Again, I denied it.

Much like the main in Edgar Allen Poe's Tell-tale Heart story, I too was feeling the pressure of my sins. Finally, she and I were sitting in the kitchen and she leaned in to kiss me. She pulled away, and shot me a look.

"What?" I asked guiltily.

"Nothing," she replied.

And truthfully, I realized that I could at this point just let it go. I don't think that she really wanted to know. However, I felt like I needed her to know. I kept pushing - "What? Do you smell something? What do you smell?"

"Did you smoke a cigarette?"

Finally.

I confessed, and while it wasn't easy, it was good. The one thing she kept coming back to was that she felt that I didn't really want to quit. She she didn't think that since I had covered it up, I was ready to stop. However, I don't believe that's the truth. The truth is that I desperately want to quit - but it's an addiction, and it's hard.

So now I'm just abut two weeks clean from them. Yay. However, and back to the first point of this entry - I'm so far away from having a good day like my man Ice Cube. The fact of the matter is, I've put on 13 pounds as of this morning's weigh-in. 260.

The struggle of the first week was just incredible. Missing those regular daybreaks really affected my pysically and emotionally. I found that I was just physically depressed and unmotivated. I ended up taking the Friday of that week off, just because I felt like I was wasting my work's time by being there. Last week was much better. I was able to very quickly fall back into the old routine at work, get into a zone and not pull away from my duties to take a run outside.

So. I'm back to breathing better. It's still a struggle, but it's no longer the minute-by-minute, hour-by-hour struggle that it was in Week 1. I just need to get the eating back under control. Truth is, I knew I was going overboard, eating poorly. I just didn't want to deal with that, as bad as I felt wit the smoking issue I was (am) working through. I think I just needed some type of comfort, and surprise surprise, I went back to food.

Damn.

You know what the worst part of the 13 pound gain is? I still went to the gym regularly. I don't know if you saw the article from Time magazine that made a bit of a splash a few weeks ago. It mentioned how working out doesn't make you thin. It actually would say that working out would make you MORE hungry as you've burned energy and need to replenish it. The main thrust was that if you want to lose weight, it begins and ends on the plate. The gym workouts just help to shape and sculpt the body, and to give you good health. And frankly, after finding out just how delighted I am with being able to chase a 7 year old boy around and not run out of energy, my health is something I don't want to give up - I've fought too hard to get it! But I just need to pay attention this next week and eliminate the bullshit eating. I'd bet that I'll drop 8 of the 13 pounds within a week.

That's the goal!!!

Me and Cube

What's up, fellow fatty peeps? In the immortal words of my man Ice Cube, today was a good day - I achieved the goal I'd set for myself of being under 250. Not only that, but I hit a new low this morning with a 247.3 - sweetsauce.

Lots of salads with fresh chicken for lunch, jazz apples (while honeycrisp apples are my most fave, the jazz makes for a nice change when the honeycrisp is out of season), and a *ton* of water. Oddly, and this just comes from knowing my body well, the top of my stomach still has a slight bulge to it that signifies I'm holding onto something. It tends to flatten out a bit more when I'm totally free of sodium/starches/carbs, so there's still more weight that I'm holding on to. I guess that means I should expect to continue to lose a bit more between today and tomorrow. Cool!

Time to go find a rubber band for the wrist - now that I've hit a new low today, I *really* need to pay attention to what I'm eating/portion size for this weekend. Can't fuck it up, because I'm 2.3 pounds away from 90 lost! With continued focus over the next 7 days, I may be able to hit that number by next friday morning - and man was that a shitty movie!

247.3

Wednesday

Morning all.

I've missed hitting the gym the last couple mornings. My body feels rundown, and I've been sleeping instead. I still hit Fight Club last night, which was great. I received a belt promotion and I'm slowly moving up - sweet.

This morning I was back at 250.4, so things are coming together there. It's my goal to be under 250 this week, so I'm on pace to make that happen. I just need to maintain my intelligent choices when it comes to good food, rest, working out.

Fun weekend

This weekend was pretty sweet - The Gal™ and I went to see Cirque du Soleil on Saturday night, after an incredible dinner of calamari, bruchetta, some lambchops for me and shrimp pasta for her, then my first go at creme brulee (yum, by the way). Unfortunately the night was cut short - tornado sirens cut through the din of the circus tent, and both audience and cast were herded out into the hot, muggy night to await our fate under a parking lot.

After an hour of waiting and a shirtful of perspiration (have I mentioned that I sweat more than the average person? Like... a lot more. On my list of things that I can't fix about myself but would if I ever ran across a genie it probably doesn't make the cut, but it's still a "thing" with me), the news came across the loudspeaker - the rest of the show was canceled. Boo! Thankfully they were quite accommodating and after a 40 minute phone call the next morning she and I had tickets to the next night's final performance. Sweet!

I don't know what I weigh - on Friday I was at 251, then Sunday morning (after than incredible meal) I was up to a bullshit 256. I decided to just not worry about the scale and instead go to the gym this morning - no small feat as I didn't get to sleep until 12 last night, so I'm coasting on less than five hours of snooze-time right now.

Oh, I'm also moving. Again.

Last move (a scant 3 months ago) had me pretty stressed out, but I don't think that this one will. I'm just looking to downsize my current apartment as I have far too much room for how much stuff I have and how much time I'm there, and quite frankly I needn't spend 20% of my takehome pay on rent. So I won't be after this month. Which means I have to go home and start packing again. Ack!

Maybe instead of putting pounds on during the stress of this move, I'll instead drop 'em? Sounds like a good plan. :)

What up?

Not too sure what's going on recently. I feel like I've lost my focus. I'm still hitting the gym and going to fight club, but my weight isn't changing. My most recent weigh-in saw me at 252.0. I'm looking at guys like Stephen, who's now down 100 pounds, and Tyler, who's been doing this for less time than I have but started 10 pounds heavier and is now almost 20 pounds under my weight, and while I feel great for them, I'm a bit frustrated with myself.

I had started wearing a rubber band on my wrist over the last month as a little reminder to myself regarding what I want to do with the losing, but quickly lost interest in it as that type of totem. I haven't been recording calories. I've found myself having more regular soda, and having cookies at work or Dairy Queen during the evenings. The portion sizes on my dinner plate have also increased.

There was a post or a tweet or a facebook update or something from Tony, where he asked an interesting question. He asked if you would cheat on your spouse on Christmas. What about Thanksgiving? Would you have an affair, but only on Halloween? If you wouldn't cheat on your spouse on a holiday, why do you think it's okay to cheat on yourself? Why is it okay to cheat on your diet/lifestyle? I feel that while I haven't been going overboard on holidays per se, there *have* been some birthday celebrations where I've been having cake or weird, sugar-rich Snickers salad, or lots of mayo/butter/cheese... I haven't been having a total cheating orgy, but at the same time it's like every weekend I've been allowing myself to cheat. I need to get it under better control. It's like I'm accepting little hand jobs or blow jobs behind The Gal™ 's back - and since I'd never do that to her, why am I doing this to me?

Don't know. Not sure. But this morning I skipped coffee/muffin. I went for a banana and some water. I hope that by minimizing early carbs this morning, I won't be going loopy for them later as that seems to be a problem. I need to keep my focus and I need to lose more weight.

ps, my right knee was tweeked this morning when I woke up, for reasons unclear. After doing the hipsled at 430 pounds for 3 sets of 15 reps, it's currently killing me. I don't need an injury to screw with me.

2.2