It's cold!

Well that didn't take long. Two weekends ago it was in the high 60s here. As I type this, it's 34°! Frost is coating the grass. When I left the apt 90 minutes ago it was pitch black outside and 28°. And I'm the idiot going out to my car still wearing a t-shirt and shorts. Fool! Today I think I'm going to pick up a zip-up hoodie and a pair of sweat (athletic? are they still called sweat?) pants after work. I'll have to start bringing a bag and getting a locker at the gym, but I guess that's okay. Maybe I'll even just shower and change for work there. Crap. I'm going to become one of those creepy old dudes who likes to walk around butt-naked in the locker room, striking up conversations with people who don't want to be social with nudists, aren't I?

Yesterday I brought a new exercise to shoulder day - external rotations. I can't believe how hard they are! There are two standing cable machines at the gym, and one is set with a default of 30 pounds. I couldn't do it! Thankfully the other machine's default is 20, so we did three sets of that. This morning when the alarm went off and I rolled over to turn it off, my shoulders pinged, letting me know that I worked them yesterday. Good. I always like the feeling of sore muscles the day after.

Today I got both my t-bar rows and my deadlift in, along with some lighter weight but slow lat pulldowns for the burn and I'm a happy guy. The weekend weight is almost gone (303.5), and things are returning to normal. Oh, and I got a job offer! I'll have to submit to a drug test and a background check before I get it get it, and I want that done before I resign, but yay me, a new job! And it's got a really nice benefits package (I've never had more than two weeks of vacation before, so usually I use them in one and two-day increments for holidays and emergencies - I may actually take a real vacation this next year) and I'm getting a great raise over my current position.

Be positive, put positive energy out into your world, receive positive energy in return. That's my one New Age-y core belief, but I'm telling you it's true. Things are working out.

Finally feeling myself again.

So on Friday my buddy called and wanted to meet up for drinks after work. Cool, says me. We meet up around 5:30. A couple cocktails later, we head for the next place and meet up with more people. More drinks, then the next several places. Next thing I know, it's 3am and I'm falling into bed. Then the alarm goes off at 6:30am. Then the phone starts ringing. Uggh. My head isn't even pounding yet - I'm still drunk.

Thankfully one of my friends offers to drive, and I pull up a seat in the back as we head to LaCrosse. All I want to do is sleep, but I instead get some greasy breakfast and three bottles of water to try to get it together. All day I was a mess! And people brought in food - brats and beer, welcome to Wisconsin, and then burgers and pizza for dinner. Good God man, this is not the winning plan for this kid. But what can you do? No car, strange town, captive audience. The day was fun, but long (it ran way too long for me), and when we headed home I just passed out in the car and snored my way back to St. Paul. Blech.

Sunday I slept until noon and was out of it all day. A friend called and I was spacey and lame on the phone, so I cut it short. I tried to go out, but I didn't want to do anything. Just lethargic. Ate bad too.

This morning I was 7 minutes into my elliptical when I finally felt better. I'm feeling myself now, but man was this weekend the opposite of relaxing! I'll have to work on that. Yuk. Oh, and big damage again - 308.4. Kill me.

Impatient

Well, the end of another week is here. A slight uptick in my weight has me aware of myself, though not overly concerned. Yet. On Tuesday I pitched a new job, and I'm pretty sure that I've got it. Mostly because the VP of eCommerce called me that evening and said that I've got it. However, she also said that I'd be receiving an electronic offer sheet the next day, and the offer would be FedEx'd to my place by Thursday. Wednesday I thought I was going to have the best day ever by both crossing the 300 pound barrier and resigning my current job - two huge weights lost. I left my Gmail account up on my screen all day, my eyes constantly flitting over to it, waiting, waiting. Nothing. All day, nothing. I ended up leaving work early, it was just too much pressure on myself. I think I drank two fruffy candy-bar-in-a-cup coffees from Starbucks that day. Yikes. Then yesterday for lunch we went to Red Robin - one of the best and WORST hamburger joints around. It was one of the guys' last Thursdays with us as he quit, so his choice. Ugg. Whereas in the past I've done okay, yesterday I just housed all my fries and my bacon and guacamole burger. Thankfully I only drank water! After that, another fruffy coffee. Yoi. I can't stop! I guess this is what the pros would call emotional eating. And that's annoying, because it just doesn't seem like something guys do. I should be watching football and killing defenseless animals and taking my wife for granted, not emotionally eating. ;)

Anyway, the VP emailed me yesterday and she said that HR policies dictate the the position must be posted internally for a week before an offer can be made to me, but that it's a done deal and the job is mine. That was good to hear. I was able to get work done after that, and I didn't go nutso anymore.

I spoke with my mom - she said that when I was little, I was always this way. If ever I got money and we were going shopping, she had to take me to get what I wanted first, lest I drive her absolutely bonkers all day. So the lesson here is, I'm impatient. Another character flaw, chalk it up.

Anyway, tomorrow morning I'm headed to LaCrosse, WI for a nerd day by way of a Warhammer tournament. I'm going to house some nerds, then we're going to grill brats and drink beer. Sounds pleasant. I'm bringing several bottles of water though - I can't go overboard bananas here. I need to be putting some distance between me and 300.

302.4 (though I'm still claiming to be under 300 to my friends - don't tell!)

Closet pants III

Yesterday after work I headed over to Marshalls, the discount clothing store. I need a new pair of closet pants, as I fit and regularly wear the two pair that I'd actually found in my closet. I decided that Marshalls was the place to go, because I didn't want to spend more than $50 on a pair of jeans that I intend on shrinking out of in a couple months time (though I do intend to buy a pair of $500 Versace jeans when I hit a 33 waist - a waste, to be sure, but dammit sometimes you have to treat yourself and I've always wanted one pair of designer jeans).

The thing about Marshalls is, they're so feast or famine! Last night's row of size 38s had a *ton* of junky brands, brands I'd *never* heard of, or jeans with bizarre stitching patterns or weird patches sewn in on them. To be fair I've been out of buying normal jeans in a normal store for several years now, but really? Does Tommy Hilfiger or Polo not make jeans anymore? Am I that out of style? Do Levis still exist? What's going on here? Arggh!

After I'd made up my mind to go with a pair that I hated slightly less than all the others, I did one final loop through the men's section, just to be sure. I found myself first by the socks, where I decided that it was a good time to do my binge/purge routine, wherein I buy 18-20 new pairs of socks, then come home and cull all the existing white socks I own, throwing them out. Honestly, fresh, thick white cotton socks on my feets is one of the best feelings in the world! Once for a birthday a friend of mine bought me a six pack of socks and I still think it's one of the better gifts I've ever received. Then I looped through the underwear section. I think that either all male underwear models have the biggest flaccid penises in the world, or like me they pick up some fresh socks regularly. These pictures don't make me want to buy the underwear, they make me wonder if I need an erection to fill them out properly. Apparently the underwear makers have decided that wives and girlfriends buy the guy in their life underwear? Let's just move on.

I looped back to the 38s, just for one more go at them. Maybe I missed something, you know? Perry Ellis, Perry Ellis, Perry El -- wait a minute... What!? Are these... Lucky Brand? Really? I *love* Lucky jeans! I wore them almost exclusively in college. Fantastic denim. And they're here? In Marshalls? Does this mean that Lucky Brand are lame now? Do I need to go buy a new copy of Details magazine? Whatever - I was totally excited! So I bought my pair of 38 Luckys and took 'em home. I peeled off the tags (these guys ain't going back, even if they don't fit... well, *especially* if they don't fit), then went into the bedroom and tried them on. One leg through... not bad around the thigh. A second leg... still doing okay, mostly. Up over my butt and we're still in the game... button them an -- button them an-- button... No. No go. If I sucked it all in and held my breath I could button them, but then I look like a total asshole with an extra-poochy belly as all my fat gets pushed up and over the waistline. Oh well. I'll try again in two weeks. :)

Where's my dancing bears?

Growing up American, we're trained from an early age to believe that our hard work will be rewarded. The popular movies and television shows all tend to end with the hero beating the odds, blowing up the Death Star and getting a medal of honor from a beautiful princess in front of thousands of onlookers. Well, unless you're Chewbacca. That dude? Got screwed.

This morning I'm below three hundred pounds for the first time in years. I've also lost 35 pounds, and 10% of my former self. There's no medal ceremony. There's no throngs of scantily clad women cooing their congratulations. There's no dancing bears. Where are my dancing bears? I want dancing bears! Wait, no I don't... well, maybe one.

Nope, I cross this barrier on a random autumn day, unnoticed by anyone but me. And you know what? That's okay. Now it's done. And now I'm in the two-hundreds. But there's a lot of work ahead, so tomorrow it's back up and early, lifting hard, kicking the elliptical up another level and getting the shirt soaked.

There's a phrase that people out in the weight-loss blogosphere use - it's called ONEderland, and it's where you are once you're out of the two-hundreds. It's a place I've been to, but I think I left it by the time I was 22. I hear it's nice this time of year. I hear they have dancing bears. I think I'm going to go back there soon.

299.5

Tag, huh?

Looks like my blogging buddy Will over at 4xlt tagged me in my comments earlier today, which now means that I have to tell my readers 6 random facts or interesting things about myself that they might not necessarily know.

1. My name is Andrew, though since I was in third grade I've been called Roder. I once played the theme to Peanuts on a piano and because my friends weren't clever they called me Schroder, after the piano-playing kid that Lucy crushes on. It took about a day to shorten it. There was a brief respite from that name when I moved away from Minneapolis to Rochester, MN to start my freshman year of high school. People suddenly decided to call me Andy (I'd always been either Andrew (Dad's side of the family), or Drew (Mom's side)). When I hear the name Andy now it's like stumbling upon an old relic lost in time.

Also, it turns out there were a *lot* of unclever kids, and as a result Roder is a seemingly more popular nickname than I'd like to believe; it is taken on every messageboard slash ps3 slash xbox slash whatever, so I've picked up RodeDaddy as a fall back.

2. I primarily listen to some pretty aggressive music. I'd have thought that by my age I'd have transitioned into more of an 'adult contemporary' listener, but I can't seem to shake the angry metal and aggressive rap. I listen to it in the car as loudly as possible (down to 4 speakers from 12 - lol!), though sometimes I've clenched my teeth so hard while driving that my jaw's joint is sore for hours afterward. And yet, as much as I love Black Label Society, my favorite artist of all time is... Michael Jackson. When nobody's watching? I'll dance to his music. Fact!

3. I've never once cheated on a girlfriend. Some things are important.

4. I've cheated on every math exam I could. Some things aren't.

5. One time I had to drive 70 minutes to work, and traffic had stopped on the highway. Like, parking lot stopped. And I had to pee. Bad. So I made the decision to pee on the floormat of my car. Of all the stories that I tell, it might be my best. I'd rather have a good story that will make friends laugh than have a pee-free car. Though a pee-free car is like number two on the list of things I'd like to have. Guess I'm just old-fashioned that way. :)

6. I paint elves. lol. Seriously. It's so nerdy and dorky and not like anything else I'm into, but for whatever reason I love the game Warhammer and will paint these little figures. I obsess about the right shade of red - should I add blue to it and give the hue a cooler purple base, or should I add brown to give it an earthy, muddy quality? Gah! These nerdy things have been featured in hobby magazines and websites. I've never told some of my closest friends about this hobby that I've been doing for almost 9 years. Eighteen months ago I was held up at gunpoint and my car got jacked with my miniatures inside. My insurance paid me for my loss. I got $11,000. Nerd!!!

And with that, I'm off to tag some bloggers... Lyn, Marshmallow, Melissa, Bikini Envy and Lorrie, y'all are up!

Excuses excuses...

Every morning I leave for the gym at 6:45, and every morning I return to my building at 8:10ish. Usually as I'm leaving I run into one of the few maintenance people who work here (we'll call him Beardy) - we pass by each other, nod our heads, grumble a short hello if we're feeling especially chipper - then when I return the whole crew of 'em are getting out of their morning meeting and are usually having a brief coffee and chat in the hallways.

Today on my way back in, I was feeling a little down. First, fire my assistant because judging by the way my shirt smelled once I took about seven steps on the elliptical I could tell that someone missed laundry day. Oof was it stinkin'. Then I finished up my morning jog, only I wasn't really huffing or puffing, and the customary four or five inches of sweat ring around my neck was only an inch of wet, dark grey. Weaksauce! I need to kick it up another notch it seems. And apparently it's already been three weeks, so the deadlift was swapped out in favor of some high-row exercise. The problem here is that the high-row, while no doubt being a fine exercise it its own right, doesn't really get the whole body moving. I think I've mentioned it, but if you search a few weight-lifting messageboards, looking for the one single best weight-lifting exercise to do, they'll say the Olympic Clean and Jerk. Then the thread devolves into gnashing of teeth as the trolls insist that the OCJ is actually like 6 exercises in one. Whatever nerds, quit arguing! But if you dig a bit further, you'll find that the two exercises that are most often cited are the Squat and the Deadlift. They work such huge muscle groups and really give you a spike to your heartrate, so you are not only adding muscle, but you're burning lots of calories as you cook your muscles and you're going to elevate your metabolism as a result. So I really do try to keep those two in the weekly routine, but sometimes I'm beat by my workout partner who, in all fairness, is just keeping us honest by switching in and out other exercises. Point being, we did three isolation exercises today and I just didn't get a huge rush, nor did I have a big sweat. So I was a bit blue.

Anyway, on my way back in Beardy stepped away from his cronies as I passed. "Hey," he said as I nodded my silent hello, "you ah... you still doing this huh? I mean, I see you coming back in all sweaty every morning. Been doing it awhile. That's good. Wish I could have that kind of motivation."

"Yeah," I smiled somewhat sheepishly as I kept moving, "gotta take care of business."

"I'd like to do that too," said Beardy. "But a'corse, my wife ya know. She don't want me out there, playin' around or whatever. Gotta be home, ya know? But maybe I'll figure somethin' out. Just gotta find the motivation."

"Sure," I said as I stepped into the elevator, "I hear you."

What I heard were excuses. And they're so easy. I've got a spouse. I've got a baby. I've got a job. I need to watch Lost. I need to clean the house. I just need a breather, to sit and chill out for a bit. Blah blah blah.

Funny - when I started writing this post the point was going to be that I appreciate Beardy taking notice of my hard work. But now I've kind of had a change of mind halfway through - I guess I'm tired of hearing excuses. The Why I Can'ts. Because it's bullshit. You don't have to do 60 minutes 5 days a week. That's just what I do. But you can find time in your schedule for 30 minutes a day. Or 30 minutes three days a week. You just can. So do it. Drop the excuses. Find the time. Make the time. For you.

302.2

Monday update

This weekend my apartment building did its annual switchover from the central AC to central heat. Makes sense - we are talking about mid-October in Minnesota. However, this weekend was unusually warm, and quite humid as well. Fact of the matter is, as I'm sitting here typing, I'm sweating. Blech. See, I'm on the third floor of this big complex, and that means that all the old biddies below me crank their heat to tropical levels. That stuff rises and this guy gets cooked. During the summer my electricity bill is around $70 from the constant AC usage. In the winter? $20. I don't ever turn my heat on - I open the balcony door and try to cool down. So right now? I didn't sleep for shit. Pretty miserable. But it's supposed to cool down this week, so I'm holding out hope that things get back to okay pretty quickly.

In weight-related news, I'm up my traditional 3 pounds after a weekend of contributing nothing to the good of my world. Fantastic! ;) I did soak my shirt at the gym, so hopefully I shed it by tomorrow, as per usual. But that does mean that I officially have not broken that 300lb barrier just yet.

This morning I've got my doctor's appointment. A full physical. It's my understanding that there will be probing fingers in my anus. I kinda wishing that right now I had a female doctor, if only for the smaller diameter of her digits. Good lord I'm not looking forward to this. And I'm really hoping that diabetes isn't in my immediate future. Bah. I guess I'm feeling a bit nervous.

Not there yet.

Not my weight. Well, maybe not. I don't know. Honestly, I'm not going to weigh in today.

Earlier this week I was reading a couple other blogs that are out there. Lyn, over at Escape from Obesity (link to the right) is a very interesting read. She's so open and honest about her struggles with obsession and weight loss and food addiction. Reading her blog is like going back and reading some of my earlier posts - they seem to be more about the emotional/mental component than they do the physical weight loss diet/exercise stuff I've been writing about lately. Then I read a post from John at John is Fit, who's recent post was called A Weight Loss Blog About Nothing, wherein he describes not really having anything of value to post, but posting anyway just to stay honest.

I feel like John a bit - I've become a bit of a broken record, especially in terms of gain a bit on the weekend, having it gone by Tuesday, lose a few more pounds, keep moving forward. That's really been it. And it's been a great broken record - don't get me wrong. I'm really happy with my progress so far. I've got a doctor's appointment on Monday morning, and since last month when I saw him I'm down 20 pounds. So this is excellent! But - somewhere along the way I forgot that the physical exercise/diet is only part of the equation.

I forgot about the mental/emotional part.

Last night I made a mistake. A huge blunder. Sometimes my mind makes these bizarre connections between events, filling in things that aren't there. And last night was one of those times. I'm not going to go into it now, but suffice to say I felt/still feel like a total asshole. I let my friend down, but more importantly I let myself down.

I have another friend who thinks we all stand to benefit from therapy. Being that she's a psychologist I'm inclined to believe that she may be experiencing a systemic bias, but even if that's true it doesn't mean she's wrong. I don't know... I'm just feeling like I totally set myself back, when I'd been thinking that I'd made such big strides. I'm impulsive and reckless and foolish, and when I turn that on myself I can become quite self-destructive; but when I errantly turn it on someone else?

All I can say is I'm sorry.

So no weigh in; there are other things to focus on improving today.

Ain't it always the way?

I was really hoping to hit 300 today. But secretly? I was hoping to hit 299. I've been having such a big week in terms of losses that I kind of hoped too hard perhaps. You know, it was like this when I got to 30 pounds too - I thought I was there, I was ready for it, then -BAM- I'd gone up a tick and missed it.

So I'm not at 299 yet. And seeing as how today I did arms (doesn't make me sweat nearly as hard as back day), I'm not convinced that I'll see 299 tomorrow. Especially when one factors in the fact that I've got a group lunch today and will probably end up with a chimichanga or a cheeseburger or something else equally stupid. C'mon me, don't be stupid!

Anyway, that's that. 300.8