It's come to my attention...

...That I'm neglecting things.

It's amazing to me just how fast I can spin out of control. Just days prior to Thanksgiving I was at my lowest weight since starting this thing. Then I go away for an extended weekend, throw my routine out the window and *poof*, everything goes to shit.

And it's stayed shit.

Dan the Workout Partner has dumped me. He said that it was so he could ride the new commuter train into work downtown rather than drive, which will save money. He will also be going to the gym in his building now. And I'm sure that that's true, but when I asked him point-blank if my spotty attendance record the past month was a factor, he stammered and grew red in the face. Yep. So I've lost that, which will be an issue for me.

I got on the scale this morning for the first time in awhile. 263.3. That's up 16 pounds since Thanksgiving. Sixteen. And the New Years celebrations have yet to occur.

Dammit.

So I went to the gym this morning. No Dan. Oh well.

It's my hope that at least 6 pounds is fake. But I'm sure I've earned 10 of those hateful fuckers. So... damn. I'm a holiday statistic.

And I'm back.

Positive changes bring positive changes

Oh my...

So yesterday morning I had done my elliptical for 45 minutes. I ran intervals and had bumped up my level from 15 to 16. I forgot to mention that during the last few minutes of the run I developed a stitch in my side.

Last night I then went to my taekwondo class. With 30 minutes of class left, our instructor had us strap on the sparring gear and began pairing fighters. I ended up having five separate fights - it was an awesome experience, and it's very fun for me to see the blooming confidence I'm getting each time I step in against someone. However, by the fifth fight I was hurting. Instead of bouncing on the balls of my feel, I'd become flat-footed and stationary. And again, the stitch in my side came roaring back. Ugh... not my best sparring match, that's for certain.

Anyway, I got home, took a shower and just felt my body compressing and tightening after the adrenaline had worn off. I started shuffling around a bit. This morning when the alarm went off... oi. My body was so sore. So ragged. So... aged. Not a great feeling. I ended up texting Dan the Workout Partner, letting him know that I'd be missing my scheduled weight-lifting session this morning. I literally couldn't get out of bed, and I'd even taken some Advil prior to laying down.

It's my hope that through the interval training I'm now doing, I'm going to increase my ability to last through these sparring matches. And symbiotically, I'm hoping that these sparring matches will help me to get through the intervals as I'm constantly under that go/stop/go pressure. But right now? Right now I'm just feeling the growing pains of where I'm at.

One other thing... late last week when I went to my blog, I saw something new. The progress meter above the top post wasn't displaying my weight loss any longer. It had switched to an error message, stating that I hadn't logged in for 80 days. Eighty days... I haven't lost a tenth of a pound in 80 days? Holy shit. Think about that. What a commentary on the treading of water I've been doing for the last three months. How very pathetic for a guy who has still consistently gone to the gym to not have shown any progress.

I've tried to look at it from other angles... In those 80 days, my body has reconfigured itself some. I'm now officially wearing XL shirts, out of the XXL. Two weeks ago when The Gal and I were at a mall, I'd gone in thinking I was only going to get one new pair of shoes that were on sale. However, as we went into different stores, I kept trying on shirts. Every time I put on a XL, it fit. Standing in the dressing room, turning and looking at myself, I was a bit overcome; I simply just started buying these new shirts! And honestly, I don't feel guilty about overspending a bit. The feeling that gave me was tremendous. Hard to describe actually, except to say that it was just an awesome gift I received, and one I'd apparently given to myself.

Point being though, the progress bar's error message reminded me that I hadn't weighed in at 247 since some time in July. This past week I made a change and dumped the morning breakfast muffin. By dumping the carbs early, I find that I'm no longer craving more later in the form of cookies from the cafeteria or grabbing a danish when I get my lunch salad. The constant *need* had just disappeared. I still get a latte on the drive into work after the gym, but I still feel satisfied and I'm no longer going crazy. It's a welcome and wonderful change to NOT have food on the brain.

Anyway, just wanted to point out some of the things I'm working on over here.

ps, I weighed in this morning.

247

Wednesday, I think.

Another day, another great trip to the gym for some hard interval cardio on the elliptical. Loving it!

Beyond that, no real pressing issues. No problems personally, no problems at work... I think I'm just going to enjoy this, because inevitably my situation will change. I'd much prefer to spend my time NOT worrying about how my good fortune will change. I'm just going to appreciate it.

:)

Keep on

You'd think by now I'd know that the weekend is my worst enemy, yet there I was, eating at Buffalo Wild Wings, eating at Panakoeken, eating a cheesecake dessert... This is got to stop, but unless I get a plan together, I'm effed. And both this and next weekends I'm not around the house much, so that could really continue to screw me.

Ugh!

Yesterday I did hit the gym in the morning and again in the evening, so yay to that.

250.2

Hey there!

So I just re-read my most recent post, and wanted to give an update - now I set two alarms to ensure I wake up; it's been a phenomenal change. I haven't slept through it once this week - four for four on morning workouts!

Last night The Gal and I joined her dad in going to a lutefisk dinner. Those who don't know what lutefisk is... you're lucky. I only heard it referenced in jokes about Minnesotans, but never had I experienced it before.

And never shall I again.

Blech.

It's supposedly fish (cod) that's been "luted". Don't know what that is, though the stuff comes out jiggling on the platter, like chunks of white jello. Its initial taste is in fact fish, though the texture is much like biting into a phlemmy snot.

Blech!

I was so hungry though, and was 35 miles from home in some church basement where this was going on (1000 people expected btw; I was number 692!), so I had to eat something. I had water. I had potatos. I had rutebega. I had lefsa. I had Swedish Meatballs. I ended up having to push away from the table due to feeling like I was swollen and drunk on carbs. Seriously... And this morning I'm finding that all those carbs eaten without a nice chunk of protein to accompany them has created an imbalance. My body is *screaming* for carbs right now! Cookies, cakes, donuts... I had a muffin for breakfast, but I'm fighting hard to avoid any others for the rest of the day. I feel like I need to OD on protein to bring my levels back to normal.

Also, and this is nutty... I hadn't stepped on the scale since last week. This morning? 255. Again. wtf?!? I think that the heavy lifting I've been doing this week, coupled with carb overload, has me retaining water something fierce. I've had only a bit of water today, but I've peed 4 or 5 times already. C'mon water, get outta here!

Anyway, please... please please please... avoid lutefisk. And carb overloading. Trust me.

Sleeping in Lately...

Man, I feel like a bit of a failure this morning. Today is the second morning in a row that I've missed the gym - so frustrating!

I had gone on Monday and did my cardio, then Tuesday I knocked out some lifting. Yesterday I'd set the alarm, but slept through it - I ended up deciding I'd work from home as I woke up SO LATE. Of course, I logged into the company's intranet and saw that I'd been assigned to attend a mandatory meeting, so suddenly I had to haul off to the office. I guess because I'd slept so late, I couldn't sleep last night and didn't doze off until 12 - normally bedtime is about 10:30. So of course, I seem to have turned off the alarm in my sleep this morning and woke up naturally at 6:30 - right when I'm supposed to meet Dan at the gym. Dammit!

Tomorrow morning Dan and I aren't going to the gym - we're meeting for breakfast to celebrate his 34th birthday instead. Seriously, I CANNOT sleep in and miss it. I already feel like a guilty tool for the last two mornings, and I can't let him down by effing up tomorrow. Grrr... Might be time for some sleeping pills tonight, just to make sure I'm dozing as required. Oh who am I kidding? I hate the idea of pills to regulate me, in any fashion. I've got two different alarms set on my phone now, 15 minutes apart. And I found the most annoying ringtone available to sound when it's time - c'mon me, don't fuck it up!

Tuesday

Looks like I didn't totally eff up this past weekend - I'm still in the 240s this morning. Sweet!

Good God you guys - I dusted off the stove this weekend and actually cooked - cooked! by myself! - I made my mom's white chili. It called for me to dice up 8 cloves of garlic. I don't own a garlic press, and I don't really know exactly what I'm doing in the kitchen. Anyway, point being, it's now Tuesday and my hand STILL stinks like garlic! Never again. Blech.

In other news, I've been mixing up the cardio by doing intervals instead of a flat speed. Frankly, I find it more challenging and engaging, and I'm enjoying it. Rumor has it that there are better "afterburn" effects too, which is that I'll continue to burn calories longer once my workout is done.

Let's see, what else? Oh, Sign #27 that Today Might Not Be a Good Day: After my workout I walked into the showers to find them... not working. Ugh. I'm giving serious consideration to heading over to another fitness location at lunch to scrub up. I feel gross with no shower after a workout!!!

Sign #106 that Today Might Not Be a Good Day: I left my work shoes at home and I'm wearing my freshly-sweated-in gym shoes.

249.5

Things are continuing to improve

I had another great day of watching what I ate, staying on plan (on the krab, according to my man Carlos), and getting a great martial arts workout in, and then a great conversation with The Gal to end the evening. I'm feeling really, really good these days!

I'm starting to think about my goals - where do I want to be in a month? By Christmas? Where do I want to be next year? I haven't formalized it - right now I'm enjoying riding the wave of my recent success and seeing where it takes me, but there's certainly a drive to be in the 230s by the time I see my folks at Thanksgiving next month. Frankly, I think that's an attainable goal, though right now my focus is just getting to 245 and crossing the 90 pounds lost barrier. Perhaps by next Friday? Biggest rule - don't fuck up over the weekend!

248.4

A bit of tough from Mom

Man my neck is sore. Seems that I whip my head around too fast or something when I'm doing the martial arts thing as these sore neck muscles have been a theme as of late. Hopefully my body will just get used to it, but until then it's Advil and Tylenol for me.

At some point either last week or the one prior, I was on the long drive home from work and was on the phone with my mom. When it was my turn to give her some updates, I whined a bit about being stuck at 255 for so long. She asked me what I was doing when I was having success, and I told her that I was counting my calories, but that I felt like that was just a pain in the ass. "Well, maybe one day you'll wake up and decide that counting calories isn't as big a pain as being stuck at 255 is. Then things will change."

I've been counting all last week and so far this week. This morning I'm in the 240s again.

Thanks ma.

So i put my hands up, they're playin' my song

Butterflies fly away...

Oh man - last week I'd really found my mojo and got her working again. So much so that by Friday morning I weighed in at 250.2 - almost back into the 240s, and this time for keeps, right? Well...

Friday The Gal and her sister and I piled into the car to head south to Chicago for a weekend out, visiting another of her sisters. I was a calorie-nazi on Friday. I knew that it would be tough as the dinner was already planned - pizza. So I had a breakfast, counting every calorie. Once on the road, I drank water, then made sure to skip a burger and do a 6" Subway and more water. I left room for two slices of pizza and didn't go over the limit. It was a numerically-perfect day.

Then Saturday came.

The long and short of it is, when I did the add-up, I clocked in at a whopping 5000 calories. Mutha-fuck! Guess that's what a breakfast of Dunkin' Donuts and Starbucks and a dinner of Cheesecake Factory will do, especially when bad choices are made along the way. Add in a burrito and a road-burger for the drive home yesterday and I was up 8 fucking pounds when I stepped on the scale last night! Shit. This morning I was 256, and I'm planning on clean-eating for the week so I can get back under control, but damn kids. Your hero took some hits.

Thankfully I hit the shit outta intervals on the elliptical this morning and began the purge. I downloaded that annoying Miley Cyrus song and found that it was perfect for getting my ass in gear - great pace, good groove. I'm not a fan of it, but damn if I didn't wake up with it in my head as I heard that ditty several times over the weekend. Whatever it takes man, right? Noddin my head like yeah... Movin my hips like yeah...

Winter Coat Revisited

This weekend it snowed here in beautiful Minnesota. Obviously this meant that I had to rummage through the closet to find my winter coat.

Two years ago I bought a gorgeous, full-length black wool overcoat. I wrote about it here. Then I was able to get to a point where I retired that coat and found my old green one, which I wrote about last March. To save you the time of going back and rereading the posts, I'll summarize: Oldest coat was super-big. Basically a XXXL. Then I dropped down into my green one, which was a XXL. That post ended with the line, "She's a double ex. She fits wonderfully again. I can't wait to retire her and wear a single ex."

Well kiddies, when I put her on this fall, she was too big. So off I went, to find a new coat. One that fit. One that was a single ex. And guess what? When I got to the department store? I had my pick of the litter - they'd *just* put out all the new coats, and every single one of the XL fuckers fit.

I chose a black wool coat, simple clean lines (I hate those ski jackets for everyday wear - all the weird, angular cuts, the overly-bright color choices, the noisy nylon or gortex or whatever the hell... let's go for classic!), buttons with a zip interior for when the wind blows. Love it.

I don't see much change, but my body tells me that it's still happening. The weight is shifting around on my body. My gut isn't so big that I have to wear a XXL coat any longer. :)

Next up, a XL shirt. I scored one from Dan the Workout Partner the other day (btw Dan, nice unload on me - those stripes are fucking hideous!), but while I can get it on, it doesn't look too great. I take some comfort in the fact that the label says, "athletic cut", but not too much. ;)

Anyway, I've already had two liters of water, peed three times and have a urine spot next to my left knee - man this dick is big. Gotta go refill this water bottle. See ya!

253.2

Some things about me

Just want to share some things about me. These are things I like, don't like, believe, whatever. I haven't written in awhile adn I'm struggling with that a bit as I feel like I *want* to write; I just don't have anything to write about. So with that in mind, I'm write about something besides weight-loss. I'll write about me. :)

My favorite compositional style of music is a fugue. You find them mostly in classical music - it's when one instrument starts, typically with a melody line, then other instruments add in their voice, creating a thicker sound. A counter-melody, a rhythm section, a doubling of the melody... whatever. It just starts small and builds and builds and builds. Love 'em.

I love serial storytelling. Shows like Lost, whose stories connect directly from episode to episode, they're my favorite. I like to obsess about where the story might be headed, and I like when the writers drop little one-liners in the show which reward long time viewers.

I love vampires. Dunno why, those there are oodles of psychobabble out there if I were so inclined to find something that lines up with myself. I used to watch Buffy and Angel religiously (they're also serialized!), and before that I read lots of Anne Rice (got out before the books ended, but still stayed with her too long). I remember reading and re-reading Dracula as a kid. Bottom line, regardless of quality I'll always check out vampire stories. Still need to see True Blood, as well as the Vampire Chronicles. ps - Twilight sucks.

I think poop is super-funny.

I think Darth Vader is the coolest villian of all time. Total bad-ass, yet he still had to answer to someone. Not a raving psychopath. Wears a cape. That dude is money in the bank.

I think a husband's first responsibility is to his wife, and a wife's to her husband. If that relationship is the strongest and most important, then the kids will be taken care of; they're a product of and addition to the relationship, not a replacement for. I think that my parents were a wonderful model for this.

When I'm in a fight in taekwondo, I think that the most important thing is to be fearless. I'm no great shakes, and will lose to people (quite regularly in fact), but I'm not afraid of them. I'm not afraid to try, and I'm not afraid to win, and I'll never just roll over in a fight. Sometimes this comes off as me being overly-competitive, but I feel that it's my responsibility to always try.

I hate feeling like I'm in someone else's shadow, personally and professionally. At work, I'll often say that I "don't like working on someone else's code - it's too hard to know what they were thinking", but really what I'm saying is, I'd rather not have to follow in someone else's footsteps. I don't want to design some website using a pre-made style guide. I prefer to originate my own style, even if it's not as good as someone else's.

I like horror movies.

You know what I hate?

I hate that piss spot that sits slightly left of center on my crotch/upper leg when I've been in the bathroom 6 times before lunch. Drink you fucking water kids.

MIA, but not DOA

Hey all - this past Sunday I awoke with a sniffle and a cough - a harbinger of things to come.

Thankfully today I'm feeling much better, but being laid up at home with no laptop (my hard drive went kaput on me and I had to send her off to the repair shop) I've been going a bit batty. No exercise to speak of, and frankly I won't until tomorrow at the earliest. I have a history of trying to get back into the normal groove post-sickness, and it never works out. Always a relapse afterward. So this time I'm just going to chill out and not stress.

Dan the Workout Partner has been off too - apparently the changing of the seasons here in MN (it's been in the 50s, down 20 degrees over the weekend!) affects both him and me. At any rate, my bedroom has never been cleaner, and I caught up a bit on my Netflix queue.

Be well!

Thursday

Oh man... my body is so sore this morning.

Last night I went to taekwondo and had several sparring rounds with some guys. What a totally different level of fitness that is! Yesterday morning I'd done 13+ miles on the stationary bike doing intervals over the course of 45 minutes, yet these little 3 minute rounds were just kicking my ass.

When the alarm went off this morning, there was just no way. Just no way! My tank was totally empty. I'll have to keep going to this new tkd class and get my fitness level up so I don't end up missing the morning workouts the next day.

251.2

Lonely

This past Saturday I snapped at The Gal™. We'd planned on going to an apple orchard to pick apples the weekend prior, but The Gal™'s sister was dialated 1cm and... I have no idea. I realize as I'm typing this that I've got no clue what exactly was going on, except to say that her vagina was doing stuff I'll never know about (and never want to), and she was close to giving birth. As The Gal™ was asked to watch her niece when the sister went to the hospital, there was quite a bit of excitement surrounding the possibilities. As such, we postponed the orchard trip a week.

Saturday morning came - well, actually Saturday afternoon. As I don't get enough sleep on weekdays, I allow myself to sleep in as late as my body demands come Saturday morning. Turns out the verdict for this past Saturday? Noon. And I only awoke then because my bladder was on the verge of emptying itself onto my mattress - thank God I'm both past and not yet back to that point in my life. Anyway, The Gal™ came over soon after I awoke and after a bit of chatting and whatnot, asked if it was okay that we not go to the apple orchard that day, but wait until Sunday. See, she really wanted to see her friend Doc, and Doc was planning to go the next day.

"Sure," I said, though I bristled.

At this point I'm a bit frustrated with the change in plans again, and I have an unfortunate way of dealing with it - I don't. I just tend to internalize my feelings, which acts as a repulsing magnet to those around me. Finally, after an hour had gone by and the two of us were in the car running errands, I popped.

I told her that I was frustrated that we weren't going to the orchard. That we were going with Doc the next day. That we hadn't gone the week before, and that the week before that, when we'd had plans to do a different event, one of The Gal™'s other sisters had been added to the guest list a bit late. That I didn't feel like I was getting enough time with her. That she and I didn't actually do much together, but rather when "events" came up, they were always shared with others.

I regret getting upset with her. I don't typically get mad in that fashion - it's just not really me. In the last two days, I've spent much of my head-time thinking about why I did that. Why would having another friend get me upset? Was it really that big of a deal?

The answer, I've come to discover, is that I'm beginning to feel the loneliness of this move, and the daily isolation it is causing me to live inside.

Early on, moving 85 miles away wasn't a big deal - there were daily discoveries, and life was full of excitement. I'd come home from work, and The Gal™ would be there, perhaps cooking a dinner, perhaps quick with a cocktail and an episode of Lost, perhaps feeling a bit frisky. Super-awesome, and the life that I was looking for. Yet, as time as gone on, I'm starting to notice the connections that I've severed. I don't see my friends much at all - I haven't seen one in... two months? Maybe? A month-and-a-half for sure. Can't really remember when Krazy drove over to visit. The calls dried up after a couple weeks. Then the texts. Then the emails. Now with the exception of Dan the Workout Partner™, I have no contact with people that I'd see several times a week.

Two months ago I decided to join taekwondo. I joined for several reasons: more activity would help spur on more weight loss, in the past I'd worked myself to one belt level below the black belt and as such have always had that task in mind as a goal to accomplish and it felt like the right time, and third (and the main one too), is that I wanted to meet people in this new town. People who I shared common interests with. People with whom I could converse on topics that were important and personal to me.

Unfortunately, that hasn't yet happened. I've found that the taekwondo school is populated mostly with kids, a few high-school students, and one or two moms - at least the classes I'm attending. There is nobody who fits my demographic, and really, why would there be? Who starts up a martial art at 33, you know? There's one instructor who's close in age to me, though here's a little-known fact: the belt hierarchy in traditional martial arts schools shows not only who is the more experienced/accomplished/learned student, but also who may speak with whom. Not a whole lot of interaction between high and low belts. So my experiement/hope has become a bit of a bust, in terms of my primary goal. I fully intend on sticking with it, but I'm looking at it more in terms of fitness and finishing what I'd (started and quit) years ago, and not as a place of social gathering. To that end, I'm looking at switching which classes I attend - the Wednesday evening and Saturday morning classes are more geared to sparring, which is where the real workout is, and where the weightloss will occur. Of course, I sleep in Saturday morning, so...

I'm rambling a bit. Oh well - this is much more a "dear diary" entry than a weight-loss one, so I think I can be forgiven a bit of a conscious-stream here.

Point being, I'm feeling lonely here. And I think I've started to worry too much about The Gal™ and where we're going. I think I'm afraid that I could lose her. As such, I'm holding on tight. Too tight.

I realize now that my snapping at her Saturday was the product of my own loneliness. That in an unfortunate way, I've become jealous that she has friends who contact her and seem eager to spend time with her. That she has a large family in town, with sisters in her demographic who love her and want to see her all the time. I feel like I don't have that - that all I have is her - and it makes me reticent to share. And that in turn puts an inordinate amount of pressure on me, her and our relationship. And for no good reason.

I'm writing this not to seek an immediate solution. That's not necessary. I'm writing it just to help me understand myself and my actions as of late. Often times I retreat into myself to puzzle out my feelings to situations. Sometimes I force myself to at least say something, like I did when I finally blurted out what I said to The Gal™ on Saturday. However, what I said then was totally half-baked. I'm not mad that Doc came with us. I'm sad that I don't have a Doc of my own to tag along with The Gal™ and me. I'm sad that I'm feeling lonely. I know that much like my home sickness when I went off to college, I'll get through this and be able to move on (and hopefully soon). Hopefully by discovering this and acknowledging it, I'll be able to better keep myself in check.

Tuesday

Today I stepped on the scale - 252.3. That's five pounds higher than my lowest, but 8 pounds down from my most recent high. Man, that whole let's-start-smoking-again-and-then-quit-and-fuck-some-shit-up-in-the-process thing was totally a bad call.

In terms of struggling, I finally feel like I'm not once again. It's been a month since I've really felt like this. I'm back to drinking green tea in the morning and not indulging on the froo-froo coffees. I've stopped with a cookie-break down in the cafeteria. I'm eating only salads and fruit during lunch, and I'm drinking much more water during the day. I finally feel like I'm choosing based on my logical wants, not on some weird emotional pull.

I'm this odd ball of interaction at times. I can get quite high, playful to the point of annoyance. Then I can come waaaay down, not wanting to interact with anyone and turn all my thoughts internal. I try to modulate myself, staying somewhere between positive but not annoying and stoic but not silent. Sometimes I hit it, other times I miss. Right now though, I'm feeling good. :)

252.3

Weekend

For this weekend, I didn't go over board with the eating. Oh sure, The Gal™ and I did have a few beers and some pizza during the football game yesterday, and Friday we'd gone out for some Italian, but I don't feel like at any point I *overate*, which is important.

Yesterday The Gal™ and I hit an apple orchard to pick apples. Never having gone, I didn't know what exactly to expect. Seems pretty straightforward - farmer drives you out to where the apples grow, you pick 'em, the end. But man... what a glorious day it was! Beautiful out. I loved walking around, enjoying the fresh country air.

Afterward she and I went to the Big Box Store to look over some new computers. My laptop shit the bed Saturday night and that was pretty much that. It's been overheating for awhile now, but it's still a pain in the ass. So... no computer from home for awhile I guess.

After that we went to her parents' place. They were knocking out some yardwork in the back, so we pitched in. I ended up pruning a couple trees - clipping and sawing branches. After... hmm. I have no idea how long I was doing it. Forty minutes? 60? 90? No clue. Bottom line, I worked up a *huge* sweat. Ended up having to take a shower. After that, I was given some of her father's clothes. He's a super-sweet man, but he's also sizable. Kind of sucks to think that I can wear his stuff with little problem. Then I saw that there was a pic of me and The Gal™ sent to me this morning from a friend of ours who'd joined us at the orchard. Damn. This kid still has *lots* of work to do.

255.0

Friday

My shirt was soaked when I stepped off the elliptical, forty-five minutes and four and a half miles later. Seriously, I think that my gym bag will have a puddle in it by the time I get home tonight. Laundry has been added to my To Do list.

Didn't weigh in this morning - just forgot to. Maybe I'm no longer the whore I once was? Or maybe after yesterday's gain fluctuation, I wasn't in the mood for the scale's lies and half-truths. Bottom line, I've gone to the gym 5 out of 5 days this week, and I've gone to fight club twice (I didn't go last night as I got home a bit late and wasn't in the mood). I'm doing well, and I know that soon enough the scale will represent this.

Happy weekend!

Shoes!

I'd been wearing the same pair of shoes to the gym for over a year. They were a decent pair of Nike running shoes and I quite liked them, but I found that they were starting to wear out.

The Shox in the heels had become compressed. The rubber sole was peeling off the toe on one of them. The black fabric had been stained a patchy white with the salt from last winter and the sweat off my feet. And then there was the smell. Oh God, the smell. A dead body wrapped in burnt bacon is a close match (I think - I've never actually wrapped one of my victims in bacon. Yet. Kidding! Mostly.) So I went online and did a bit of shopping, looking for the replacements.

I've got a few requirements for workout shoes. First, I prefer running shoes. I'll go with trainers if I must, and trainers tend to be a more stable, stiff shoe, but I really enjoy the light weight of running shoes. When you're already overweight, there's no reason to spend money to put heavy bricks over the toes, you know? Plus, the profile of running shoes tends to be sleek, which helps when my body silhouette is a bit, uh... not sleek.

Second, and a corellary to the previous requirement, I prefer the shoes to be made mostly of fabric/cloth, not leather (or a fake pleathery poly-something). Getting fabric on the uppers means that the shoes will get dirty quickly and won't wipe clean the way leather does, but they're light and -- and this is important with me -- they let the feet breathe, so when they're all nestled up in the shoe they don't sweat so much. Because kiddies? I sweat.

Next requirement - cushioning. Look, I've heard that wearing shoes can screw up your body's natural gait by over-cushioning, changing the way you walk. I've also heard that having a flat-soled shoe when lifting weights (especially for things like squats, deadlifts and the hipsled, where there's a lot of pressure in the heel) is superior to not. HOWEVER! I don't much care. I'm heavy. My lower back will get sore and tired when I don't have proper cushioning in my feet. I don't really care what technology the shoe uses to cushion me: air, gel, compression foam, rubber, etc., provided that I'm receiving the cushioning I need.

Finally, I'd like the shoe to be available in widths - my feet are wide. I wear an E-width shoe, which is thicker than the standard D-width of most mens shoes. Again, having a shoe with a wider footbed allows the foot to breath rather than appear to be a sausage in some casing, you know? I wear a 10.5, though I tend to buy an 11 as I can't find shoes that fit both my length and girth. Condoms either. ;)

Well, I found a pair that I thought looked pretty decent, if not slightly over the top, style-wise. They're the Nike Experience. A pair runs $140, which these days is just too pricey to justify. I kept my eye on them though, and sure enough they're now on discount. In fact, once I saw that they were discounted to $90, I decided to go see if they were at the local mall. Turns out they were! AND, they were only $80 there!

Unfortunately, the salesman said that they didn't come in widths other than standard D. Strike one. Also, they were out of size 11 - strike 2! However, they did have a pair of 10.5s in the back if I'd like to try. I hemmed and hawed a bit, looking at other models, then said sure.

WOW! Honest to God, they were the best shoe I'd ever tried on! The top is a stretchy fabric, so my big fat pig feet can push against the sides without blowing out the stitching (yep, it's happened). The cushioning is a combo-platter of the compressed foam Shox with air in the shock column. They were so light! So comfortable!!

Honestly, I can't keep my feet out of them. They're my gym shoes, but I find myself wearing them around the house, and when I'm out on the weekend. I'm sort of kind of thinking about buying a second pair, just because they're so awesome. Oh, and apparently there's some sort of + technology that ties into your iPod/iPhone to record your workouts or time it to music or some such. I have no interest in that (though when I'm on the eliptical I do have my iPhone playing music - eh, don't want to figure it out!), so there's even more reason that these things are sweet.

What kind of shoes do you prefer when working out?

255.3

Yikes

Last night I had some issues getting to sleep. I finally went down somewhere close to midnight, scoring less than five hours for the third night in a row.

I'm pooped.

At the gym this morning, the effects of little sleep showed up - I actually bailed from the elliptical 30 minutes into my planned 45 minute exercise. I just didn't have the energy. I'm already looking forward to tonight's bedtime. I'm *so* tired, and I feel like I've got nothing left in the tank. The problem is, it's only Wednesday. :(

253.4

The Secret

I've been derelict in updating my blog, so I'd like to acknowledge that fact before posting - blogging (much like just keeping a journal) is decent therapy for me and I've been neglecting that.

I read the book The Secret awhile back. It's basic premise (the Secret, if you will), is that whatever we think about will expand from thought into action. If you want to reduce your debt and save, start by thinking about it all the time. Not thinking about the consequenses, but rather just how you're going to save and reduce debt. Pretty soon you'll find that the thoughts affect your actions - you'll be standing at Target and will see a copy of Guitar Hero World Tour PLUS two wireless guitar controllers for only $20, and you'll STILL walk away, because buying that is taking you further away from the debt reduction/saving you've been focused on.

Point being, when I started this new lifestyle, it was all I thought about. I'd start my day with a visit to the gym. I'd come home, weigh in, blog about how I was doing, read other blogs, then go to work. I'd think about what I ate everytime I ate something. I'd read more blogs over lunch, or go researching some alternative lifting exercises. I'd go home and think about how much water I'd drank that day. I'd read more blogs...

For the past six or so months, I haven't been nearly as focused on that. I've thought about it some, but it hasn't been the dominate thought. As such, weight loss has contracted in my mind/life while other facets of life have expanded. As of yesterday however, that will no longer be the case.

This past weekend my eating was atrocious, to the point of embarrassment for myself. How did I come to this point of not refusing the pizza and Chipotle and cookies and burgers and beer and... you get the point. I've always allowed myself some "bad" food, though in moderation. Now however, it seems to have wormed its way back into my life. My cupboard has Oreos. It's got Sun Chips and Tostitos. It's got dipping cheese/sauce. Who the hell have I become? I'm drinking lots of diet sodas and not purely water. What the shit is going on?

So once again, it's time. Time to focus. Time to remember The Secret.

254.9

Real quick-like

Two things...
1) I'm sick. Neck glands are swollen.
2) I'm down four pounds.

256.4

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

This morning's stats

45 Minutes logged
4.5 Miles ellipsed
519 calories burned
11 Black Label Society songs
1 sweat-soaked t-shirt
And the commitment to go gymming when I just want to stay the hell in bed.


















And since I'm feeling pretty damn good, I'll post this "before" pic. Somewhere around September-ish of '08. Spot the fatty.

Ruminations on a Compliment

Last night I headed over to The Gal's™ place to say hi. When I walked in the door, I saw her whole family huddled around the table, working on their next big event. Her mom greeted me, then said, "Andrew - you're losing some weight!" I did my typical quiet thank-you bit, and left it at that, but it got me to thinking.

A year ago I'd taken stock of my life and how much of a waste I felt it had become. I wanted to get healthy for a number of reasons, though thankfully all the reasons were my own. As an aside, I'm not really convinced that if someone's parent or spouse says something regarding your weight, you're really going to do much. And if you did, it wouldn't be with your whole heart as it wasn't *you* that came to the decision to do it for you - you're doing it for them. Because of that, I do believe that in order to be successful at this you sometimes have to exhibit selfish behavior - you've got to put this effort above other things in your life, be they family, friends, hobbies, etc. I digress...

One of the things I was really concerned about was how women viewed me. And as I viewed myself pretty low, I assume (and probably correctly, because unless they're all a bunch of fat acceptance chicks, they're typically more interested in someone thin/muscular. At least at first blush) that they saw me the same. But one thing I never gave much thought to was how their family members would see me. I guess I just never made it that far down the thought-line.

So The Gal™ has 7 siblings, along with her folks. What did they think when I first started coming around? What did they think when she and I started dating? Did they say anything concerning her new beau's weight? Did they feel that she was settling, or slumming, or any other negative word usable here? Did they wonder just what in the hell she was doing with me?

I don't know. I haven't asked. I'd really not thought about it too much before driving home last night. I think at this point I've pretty much got them all liking me for me, so I'm not too worried about it, but it's just an interesting thing to ponder.

Anyway, I appreciate the compliment Pam. Thanks for noticing.

More ramblings for this week.

Man, I've been straight slacking on updating this thing this week! Don't think that slacking here means that I'm slacking out there though - thankfully I'm not that cliche.

Let's see, what to ramble about today...

So this past weekend I volunteered my time at a weekend conference. It was a decent-enough time, though sleep seemed to be at a premium. The reason? Those crazy Catholics had set up a volunteer room full of baked good and fully loaded soda! Initially I avoided the Mountain Dews and brownies, opting instead of a bottle of water and... well there's no and. There weren't any healthy alternatives offered. I kind of get the sense that Jesus was a loaves and fishes kind of guy, but the diocese of Winona is more of a cookie place. And since I was there all Friday night, from roughly the time I woke up until Saturday night, then bright and early Sunday morning, I was at the mercy of them. In fact, I'd even had a McMeal as I drove in Sunday morning. Sonofabitch! Of course, no debauched eating weekend would be complete without stepping on that scale and taking my punishment, so I did. Sunday night I damn near broke my scale, clocking an impressive 259.9. Believe me, I would have shit my pants right there, but I'd already taken a dump before weighing in. Good thing too, apparently.

By yesterday's weigh-in, I was at 251. Not my lowest, but I'm fine with it at the moment. Just gotta keep fighting the battles, winning back any ground that gets lost in the daily skirmishes, you know?

Tuesday night I went to taekwondo, which I shall tend to reference as fight club going forward. First rule of fight club is that you don't talk about fight club, but fuck that Brad Pitt Shit, I've got some stuff to say!

At the 40 minute mark of class, they had us strap up in helmets and chest protectors - it was fight time! I haven't sparred in *years*. Of course, they pair me up with some black belt dude - he's the only other barrel-chested cat up in that place, and there's a certain logic in keeping the heavyweights together. That said, I'm a yellow belt and he's testing for his third dan black belt next month. However, and this is the good news, he's terrible. I did discover though that I too am terrible! I swear, I didn't used to be. I don't think. I hope. But I am now! In my mind I could see what I wanted to do, but my agility, flexibility, and skills are just gone at the moment. Basically I'm just a bull in a china shop, all size and strength but no control or precision or ability. So in an attempt to not look like a total schmuck I stuck to lots of round kicks and back kicks to his gut. He had a few more tricks in his bag, but I avoided most of them. Mostly I slid backward quite a bit as I wasn't expecting to spar and didn't wear a nutcup. I don't trust these big lummoxes to avoid kicking me in my enormous genitals (not really), and damn did he kick hard!

After two two-minute rounds, they had us switch up partners. Both he and I ended up with women. I have no huge issues sparring against women, but typically I only enjoy it when they're significantly better than me. I don't feel so bad about launching attacks at them as they're usually quite quicker than me and will avoid my kicks, so I benefit from fighting these little whip-quick squirts who continually tag me with their feet. The woman I fought was not that. She was probably 200ish, and wasn't particularly quick on her feet. However as she was significantly higher in rank, she had this annoying in-ring habit of trying to put me into different fighting situations and then offer up "coaching tips" as we fought. Fine, whatever, I know I've been guilty of that in the past myself so I went with it. However, I'm now in my third two-minute round on my first night of fighting and the reality of being 250 came into play. My tubby legs had grown quite heavy and weren't snapping up, striking as I'd have liked. She kept coming in on me, jamming my attacks. "What do you do if your opponent is this close?" she'd ask as our chest protectors would touch. My first answer is to slide my back foot backward, creating space to then lift my front leg and snap a kick into her midsection. My second answer is to slide back, then just do a jumping back kick or jumping spin heel to the dome. Unfortunately I was waaay too gassed at this point to make any of those answers happen. By the third time she'd crowded up on me and was questioning me again, I'd had enough. I just put my hands on her chest protector and... shoved. Hard. Thump - she stumbled back and her ass hit the mat.

Bull in a fucking china shop man.

At least I wasn't the only one though - that guy I fought for the first two rounds? Apparently dusted the gal he was paired up with. She walked out of her ring in tears, having been hit hard. I have some sympathy for her as the dude really did hit hard and didn't appear to have a sense of dialing things back based on skill level. At the same time, we're at fight club, you know? So move, block or counter. Bah - whatever. I'd prefer that we just keep the bulls together, let 'em bruise one another up and let us leave it at that. No need for a woman of 150 pounds to fight a 230 pound black belt with no sense of adjustment. Plus the dude's got a dickish air about him. He can snack one.

So anyway, Mon/Wed I lifted, Tue/Thur I biked and elliptical'd. I had to cut short my elliptical today though as I had an early-morning meeting. So frowny-face on that.

Hmm... I think I've run long here, so I'm just going to end it for today. Plus, I've already drank two liters of water and it's time for a bathroom break.

Ramblings

What's going on, my bunch of chubby chasers?

I was slothing around my apartment this morning, trying to put my bags together for work. Some mornings I'm just draggy like that, and today was one. In fact, I just realized that I totally forgot to weigh in. Which in hindsight is probably the right call as I had a totally delicious sandwich from this place called Great Harvest for yesterday's lunch. They're this bread joint that serves pretty much the best sandwiches ever (I assume that the others are good - I'm pretty much totally gay for their chicken panini whatever sandwich that I don't even bother with the others - I can't cheat on my main meal, it might get hurt feelings), but the thing is they're only open from 11-3 for lunch. Dicks. I don't normally get home until 6ish, so that sees me miss them on the daily. Probably I'd eat that fucker every night if I could. Thankfully yesterday I worked from home, which is code for I ate a chicken sandwich from Great Harvest. Apparently.

What else? Oh, you'll love this, because who *doesn't* love a workout update, right? God I'm so lame today. Whatever, it's my blog and I can be lame if I choose to be. Anyway, I was knocking out 45 minutes on the elliptical again. Now, two (three?) weeks ago, I was doing my 45 minutes at level 14, but after 20 minutes I dialed her down to 8. Then last week I did 30 minutes at 14, then the last 15 at 8. Today I kicked some elliptical ass and rocked all 45 minutes at 14 - go me. By the end I was getting a bit draggy on the thing, but then my Pandora station put on some solid metal, the tempo went up quickly and the next thing I know I'm standing ramrod (hot) straight, running to the beat. Didn't even hold onto the big ski-pole looking hand things (what?), nor the other handlebars that measure heart rate. Just hoofin' it. I *highly* recommend fast music on that turd of an exercise. Basically I can't imagine flushing my life away 45 minutes at a time while listening to LA|Fitness play deep cuts off Now That's What I Call Terrible Dance Music 36. Eff those guys, their shitty playlists and their constant commercial interruptions every 2 to 3 songs to tell me to put my kids in Playland or get a Personal Trainer. LA|Fitness? Enough with that shit. Even a rube getting a 20 minute workout is going to hear your entire collection of junk self-promotion.

Tonight I'm in training to be a volunteer for a church thing this weekend. Basically me and Jesus and a crapload of high school kids are going to be kicking it for the better part of my available hours until I'm able to do some laundry on Sunday night. They better not accuse me of being a pedophile or something like that - that's this bizarre fear of mine when around minors these days. I guess I've just read too many headlines of teachers getting busted boning their students. Not that I'll be boning any of them. Holy shit did this just go totally off the rails.

Anyway, just ate a chicken salad and some strawberries/blueberries/kiwi. I've housed some water already, and have another liter on deck. Now I'm off to read some other people's fatty-lifestyle ramblings as I think I've come to the end of mine.

Snooze

Oh man.

This morning I woke up at 6:30. Shit, I thought... that's when I'm supposed to be *at* the gym. And seeing as how my gym is 75 minutes away, and I still had to pack up my work clothes, etc... pretty clear I wasn't making it. Additionally, my cheek was soaked as I awoke in a swamp of my own drool. I always drool when sleeping if I'm sleeping HARD, so clearly I was wiped out.

I made it to work on time (mostly), and I'm going about my morning business, but I've got to say - without my morning exercise, I'm struggling. I've stretched my legs and back several times here in my beige cubicle (fucking kill me please), but I still feel tight and sore and beat. Some days it's just tough trying to find enough time for gym, work, my drive, my gf, sleep and myself, never mind the daily chores that I've just kind of let go of. Something had to give, I guess that's what I've chosen.

But today apparently my body opted for sleep over anything else, as I clearly recall setting the alarm when I went to bed. I must have turned it off (I did check the switch and it was OFF this morning) in my sleep (or a close proximity of sleep), the rolled over and cashed out again. Shrug. I guess it was important.

Tonight I have a second night of TKD, so I'll get some decent exercise in anyway. Oh, and last night I got some round kicks up to face-height: some flexibility is already starting to return! Huzzah!

253.2

I'm in love...

I have an admission to make everyone... I'm in love! Yep, it's official. I get excited thinking about it. I can't get it off my mind. Whether I'm looking forward to it or thinking back on it, I just can't get it off my mind...

Of course, I'm talking about the Arnold Press.

When I wear t-shirts, I've really noticed the shape that my shoulders make as they fill out the short sleeves. There's a perceptible lump there now. I can clearly remember when my shoulder cap was an amorphous idea, hidden under layers of fat. Then one day, a small curve began to appear out of the fat - it looked like the side of an egg, slowly pushing its way up and through the garbage. Eventually that egg became fuller, and the fat has slowly fallen away from it. The shoulder cap rounds out in the front, and there's a fairly clear separation of the shoulder from the upper back trap muscles, and from the triceps muscles below.

Shoulders are some of my favorite muscles to target.

I'll knock out some upright rows. I'll do isolation moves with raises to target the front, lateral and rear deltoid muscles. I'll do presses to hit those babies. But now... it's the Arnold press.

Not only do I feel them in my front and lateral delt heads of my shoulder, but also in the forearms. I'm doing three sets of 15 reps each with 30 pounds at the moment. I feel like I'm ready to do a bit more weight as well, but that's not why I love them. I love them because they allow me a spot of vanity.

When I'm pressing the dumbbells up towards the sky, I can see the longer line of my extended biceps, though I've been seeing that line for awhile. The exciting line I'm getting now is the line that's carving the separation between my rear delt and my triceps. The line comes out of my armpit and runs below the biceps line. It's small at the moment, but it's something that I can see, something that I can focus on. And it's getting ever so slightly longer and deeper each week.

But it was today that I saw something I'd yet to see. Something that I've been hoping for since lifting weights. Something that marks the next phase in my body's reconstruction.

I saw a vein.

For several years, I'd only seen one vein on my body, and it took and trip to the bathroom or some downloaded adult material to see it much - and even then, with my belly in the way, I'd have to work a bit to notice it. But no longer! When my hands stopped looking like marshmallows and instead deflated a bit, there was a little bit of vein happening on the backs of them. But veins on hands is boring... And then, today, just behind my wrist there looking like a topographic map, a small creek of a vein, cutting a slightly raised path two inches long down the top of my forearm!

As I sit here and type it's gone now. This vein apparently requires some hard, blood-pumping action to make itself known, but that's fine. I've got the tools I need to bring that vein out. I've got the Arnold Press.

I'm excited to watch that vein run longer up and down my arms, much like the muscles of my forearms began small and have now carved several lines of muscle that are visible even when I'm not flexing. Then? Then I'll be even more excited when that vein stays parked on my arm, even when I'm just sitting at my desk, typing up TPS reports and going about my business.

Small, steady progress peeps. That's what it's about.

255.6 (looks like I fucked myself this weekend, just as I'd feared. Didn't see a vein when I was doing it either. Ooops.)

Done with this week

Wow am I beat... four miles on the elliptical yesterday, taekwondo last night, and then a tough day of lifting with a couple super-sets in there have kept my heart rate up - not that I'm complaining! I love the feeling I get after a workout, so yay to that.

Years ago I used to go to a taekwondo school, and on a good day I could do the splits - on a bad day I still wasn't too far off. Now? I can barely get my legs to go past 90° when I spread out. I suspect that the issues are a combo platter of 5ish years away from the sport, combined with tight muscles from lifting regularly without much in the way of stretching. Stretching is something I really need to work on - it keeps me limber and agile (as agile as a 250-pounder can be anyway), and I'd like to get some of that back. I don't know that I'll ever do the splits again, but it's definately a goal to reach for.

I think that last week's 247.8 may have been a bit premature - I think that it was a combo platter of 4 miles in the morning plus the first day of taekwondo in the evening and little to eat. Basically, I think that I'd dumped all my water weight as I never replenished after the tkd class. This morning I'm at 250.8, which seems much more realistic than the idea that I basically lost 10 pounds in a week. I'm still okay with the 250, but I'm also a tad worried. Normal weekends are difficult as it is for me as the routine is always a bit screwed up, but tonight I'm headed to a friend's for some barbeque, then tomorrow is my girlfriend's mom's 60th birthday party (more bbq, plus cake - ooh, delicious cake!), then on Sunday we're going to see some of her family's old friends/relatives, so even more chances for me to fuck myself. And since I do enough of that on my own, I don't need too many bonus opportunities!

BTW, closed-circuit to the cleaning guy at the St. Paul LA Fitness: clean the fucking showers please. Seriously; the shower curtain folds have that orange mildew thing that looks like some junior chef was dabbling marinara sauce on it. It's gross. And seeing as every time I'm at the gym you're only in the men's locker room, I think you're in the right place. Quit with the vacuuming, start with the ungrossing. Please.

Little things that I don't do

I was reading a post by Fat Daddy today, which dealt with the large issues of being fat (forgive the pun). One of his first rants revolved around being a big guy on an airplane - something I've already discussed myself. He is looking to hear from readers about some other big issues that they deal with whilst being fat.

His request got me to thinking about some of the little things that I actually no longer do as I slim down.

No longer do I walk into a room and instantly survey it, looking for someone bigger than me. I don't know when exactly I stopped - I actually hadn't even thought about that until today - but when I was huge and very self-conscious about my weight I would always hope that somewhere in the room would be a man or woman whose flanks stuck out farther than mine, hanging out the sides of their chair. I'd really wish that someone would be there with a stomach that pushed uncomfortably against the table in front of them - moreso than my own. I'd hope that I'd see someone whose gaze I could meet and share a sort of understanding, much like two guys on motorcycles waving a short hello as they pass by one another on the road. It was important to me. It made me think that there was hope. Hope that I wasn't *that bad* yet.

No longer do I walk with my shoulders slouched forward, stretching the fabric in the back of the shirt so as to allow a bit of looser fabric in my chest to disguise the fact that I had larger boobs than most of the women I passed by. I've read that losing weight and lifting weights helps to contribute to better posture. While I believe that there's truth there, I also must say that part of the bad posture of the overweight masses out there is self-induced. It's a coping mechanism. It helps to hide all the rolls and bulges on our bodies. Sort of. I mean, no man wants to admit that he's a solid C cup, so if it's something that's possible to hide, he'll do it. I did.

Now I walk upright, with my shoulders back. Again, I don't exactly know when I started doing this, but I do. I stick my chest out a bit, in a sign of confidence. Oh sure, I've still got a set of tits on me, but thankfully I'm outsized by my girlfriend and I don't stress about it much. It's just one of those things that's slowly going away.

I also no longer pull my shirt away from my chest as I sit down in a chair. I've seen this behavior in other men as well - you sit down, the fat boobs and stomach push out and collapse together at the same time, and the shirt gets stuck in the rolls. I'd pull the shirt out as I sat to prevent that - to allow the shirt to hang loosely over the top of all those lumps and bumps. Not too sure when I stopped, but for the most part I have.

One last one, and I think it may be a bit of an embarrassment for many of us - I don't work too hard at wiping my ass. When there's so much mass on your body, it can become a bit of an exercise in and of itself to reach behind your back, past one ass cheek to get the paper in the right place. I would be incredibly aware of this, fighting with my drooping back fat and oversized heinie to get clean. I'd like to think that I always did clean properly, but I put in the extra effort to make sure of that fact. Now I guess I wipe my ass like a normal person. Silly to think about perhaps, but no less true.

So these are some of the little things that I don't do - things that no longer cause me daily stress and contribute to a low self-esteem.

I'm still fat, but I'm getting there.

33! And One!!!

Happy Birthday To Me!
Happy Birthday To Me!
Happy Birthday Dear Roder,
Happy Birthday To Me!!!

Today marks thirty three years and nine months since my folks boned, making me, and one year since I decided to begin the journey to get well again, physically and emotionally. Things are going very well, and every day gets a little bit better. I just wanted to say thanks to everyone for following along and supporting me. I hope you have a great day - I know I will!

Yikes!

Today at the end of the lifting session Dan and I grabbed 25lb weights and finished up with lunges, doing a hammer curl of the dumbbell each time we stepped down. Such an amazing exercise in motor skill/control. We would lunge down and back the gym floor, turning with a pause at the end of one direction to come back to the starting point.

The initial start was fine, but by the time the turn occurred my body's coordination and motor skill would let me down. I'd get out of rhythm, out of breath and out of sorts. I got lightheaded and slightly confused. Basically I was reliving the night I lost my virginity with each lunge and curl. Yikes...

As we lifted, I'd confessed to Dan that apparently the top of my manhood had been rubbed raw this weekend. In the lockerroom, he grabbed a bottle of some ointment thing that he rubs on his arms when he gets new tattoos (both of his arms are half-sleeved from the shoulder to biceps). "Put this on your junk, it'll help," he said. He squeezed out a bit of some sort of petroleum jelly substance onto my finger. "uh..." I said. "Thanks. This is the gayest thing I've ever done. Don't tell anyone," was my response. So now I'm telling everyone. lol!

Anyway, the fourth was good, but this morning's weigh-in had me at 255 - so it was also very, very bad. Gotta sweat out that water weight gain. At least tomorrow is 45 minutes on the bike - that'll shake loose the junk!

Close the book on another week

It's the start of a three-day weekend. I can't even begin to say how relieved I am that I can avoid the office - it's become a total madhouse, with constant demands and nobody knowing what's going on. Very frustrating place to be these days.

Luckily on the other side of things is my weight loss. Now that I've given it my full attention again, things are happening. While I dream of a day when I can just go to the gym, do some light cardio and lifting and come home, maintaining my losses while not having to think about it every day, I'm not there yet. So I lift, and I run, and I bike, and I do it all with total effort, as do I pay attention all day to my diet needs.

Last night was fun. I went to TKD, met a couple people, worked up a decent sweat, and had a good time. It turns out that one of the guys there knows some of the guys I used to train with back in the day, so we've instantly got things to talk about. Yay!

Beyond that, not too much to report. I've got to work on some volunteer project that I've been meeting to complete, so that will be the lion's share of my day today.

247.8 (oh hey, lookit at that...)

Thursday!!

Today was elliptical day - 45 minutes, 4.2 miles run, 500 calories burned, and I'm currently sitting at my desk, 1 hour removed from the activity. Sweat is still streaming down my torso right now... the afterburn effect from elliptical is like nothing else!

Tonight I'm going to be starting up taekwondo again. I spoke about this before, though as I've moved since looking into it then I'll be at a totally new place. I'm both nervous and excited for the class. If it's anything like the last place, then once I'm skilled enough to start sparring again I should be dropping pounds with the quickness. Nothing like avoiding a kick to your face or nuts to get the body tense and moving!

I was up a pound this morning on the scale, though I ate less than 2087 calories yesterday. My guess is water retention due to the weight lifting yesterday, coupled with a dinner of a fajita - the rice tends to keep some water in your system. I'll be drinking lots of water today to keep things flushed - I'd *love* to break into the 240s by tomorrow morning's weigh-in. Especially as I'm going out of town this weekend, which always fucks up my consistency.

251.1

You Got Me Man...

Because I don't get it either. Maybe the change in workout? Maybe the better tracking of calories in? Or perhaps it's just because I've channeled my negative feelings into fueling my workouts. Regardless of knowing exactly why, I'm down again, and this time it's a huge drop and another new low. I guess the big lesson is, don't eat back your burned calories because that concept really is bullshit if you're looking to lose. At least, that's what I'm going with for now.

250.1

Two Things

This morning I weighed in at 254.2 - a new low for me. I believe that I can attribute this success to two things: diet and exercise.

I've been tracking my calories using the LoseIt! application on my iPhone. It's a very handy and slick application, but I think that there may be a flaw. You see, I entered all my relevant data and it said that if I'm to lose two pounds a week, I need to be eating 2087 calories daily. However, any calories burned via exercise is then added to that total. So if I burn out 500 calories on the elliptical, that allows me 2587 calories to eat for the day.

I think that this caloric add-back may actually be bullshit.

I've been maintaining between 256 and 260 for roughly the last month using this system, but I've recently made the decision to forgo entering my exercise calories burned, instead just focusing only on eating 2087 for the whole day. It meant that last night I skipped having a beer after work, opting for water instead. I also only had one sloppy joe (made w/ lean turkey, not beef) and 1/4 of a potato. That's it. I also skipped desert. It got me in under my caloric goal for the evening, so that was good.

Also, I switched up my workout. I'd been doing roughly the same workout for six months, so the change (and it was a big one) has been a real boost. Though I won't lie - doing cardio for 45 minutes is both mind-numbing, and in the case of the stationary bike, ass numbing as well. However, the big thing is that I've been finding myself quite sore the next day since this new program, so I think it's doing some good things for me physically.

I think it's just about time to pull out those 35" waist closet pants I've got hanging in the back corner of my room, just to get a sense of where I'm at with that progress. I'm also adding another fitness component later this week. I'll get to that update on Friday, schedule permitting.

254.2

A Reminder

Sometimes I think I'm in denial regarding how fat I really am. Like, losing 80 pounds has given me some sort of fat-pass, and that I now get to wear a label other than that. Then I'm reminded on how wrong I am.

Yesterday after church and breakfast, I was changing to get ready to go to a parade and a waterski show. As I walked into the family room, my girlfriend's son came up to me. "You're fat," he said.

"I know," I replied quickly, feeling the heat of embarassment as my face lit up bright red.

"WHAAAAT?!?" his aunt called from the other room.

"He's fat," came the reply.

Sigh.

I walked upstairs and sat on the couch. Moments later, my girlfriend came over, kneeled low next to me and said, "I think you should grab a sturdier lawn chair. I don't think these collapsible fabric ones will hold you."

"Okay," I said, the warmth on my face returning.

I guess I'd been feeling so good this past month that I forgot, but yesterday served as a reminder that despite the efforts of the past year, I'm not thin. I'm not trim. I'm not good-looking. I'm not chubby. I'm not husky. I'm not overweight. I am fat. And despite how I may see myself, this is how the world sees me.

I won't forget again.

Quick check-in

Wow - this article completely hits many of my day-to-day feelings right on the head.

256.7

Monday Workout Switchup

This week marks the next big shift in my workout routine. Instead of mixing in 20 minutes of cardio and 20 minutes of lifting, I'm going to a 3 days a week full body lifting schedule, with two days of 50 minutes of cardio (and whatever I can get in on a Saturday, which so far is *nil*).

Today's emphasis was the back. Note that all the exercises are comprised of three sets of 15 reps, with a consistent weight. We did the deadlift (Dan confessed afterward that it's his least-favorite lift out of all of them - eat a big bowl of dick Big D, it's my favorite!), then the t-bar row. After that we tossed in a new exercise, the Arnold Press, for our shoulders. It's named after some California politican - I guess he used to lift weights or something. Then we did standing reverse curls for the arms, and finally we ended with a superset of chest flys and leg extensions. In the locker room after, Dan said he almost vomited. Twice.

I was soaked from the workout and was still sweating once I'd showered and changed into my work clothes. I stepped out into the humid Twin Cities air, and the sweat kept running. When I got to work, I could feel that my back was totally drenched, and the women coming up the stairs behind me were looking at that. Eh, what do you do?

Shopping Like a Grown Up

Seems like I'm built for injury these days.

Last night The Gal and I hit the local grocer. I can't recall the last time I actually went grocery shopping - I mean, I'll stop in there and pick up a specific item or two, but last night we actually went shopping shopping, like how my Mom goes to the store. Bizarre.

Fruits, vegetables, meats and cheeses all filled the cart. Bottles of water, ready to stock the fridge as a nice alternative to diet sodas and beers are now in my posession, as are boxes and cans of foodstuffs which line my pantry. That's right kiddos, I have a pantry. And that fucker is stocked.

Of course, a trip just isn't a trip without a healthy dose of injury, so I made sure to jam the palm of my hand into the side of the cart in such a way so as to tear deep into my skin. I immediately began to apply saliva as a natural salve, but we quickly made our way to the pharmacy area, where I was given a pre-medicated band-aid.

This morning at the gym I did squats, then Dan the Workout Partner and I went to do lat pulldowns. Quick side note - I read a post from Jillan Michaels, describing how she separates the body's muscle groups into top/bottom, then front/back. I'll put her post below:

Did you know that doing a lower-body workout is one of the most effective ways to elevate your heart rate and burn calories? Well, it's true! In fact, it's why your daily routines are designed to work your lower body during each and every training session.

I like to divide muscle groups into the categories "front" and "back." You should work the front of your chest one day, and your upper back the next. This breakdown allows you to combine exercises for your upper body and lower body in a swift sequence called a super set. This drives the blood back and forth between your upper and lower body, allowing you to burn about twice as many calories! The extra calorie burn results from something called peripheral heart action, or PHA.

PHA is at the heart of my program (no pun intended), and it's one of the reasons I get such great results. As if burning more calories weren't enough, following this kind of routine also reduces the formation of lactic acid, which is the cause of muscle fatigue.

So today we mixed squats and lat pulldowns, but as I did the pulldowns, I continually reinjured my palm, twisting and ripping the skin. Eh, I'll survive.

Unfortunately I'm still husky this morning, despite drinking 3.5 liters of water yesterday and staying under my daily calorie count. I'll just keep working to flush the system of sodium today, while eating right and working out.

258.1

Ghetto Fab

I awoke Saturday morning and weighed in - 256.1. Almost back! Of course, since I was close, it was clearly time to eff it up, right? Ugh.

I was low on food supplies, and was facing the reality that payday is Monday morning. That meant that I was at the mercy of my Target gift cards - $40 to be exact. So The Gal and I went shopping and decided that it would be fun to have a White Trash Weekend for our dinner. As such, we had Kraft macaroni and cheese, Spaghetti-Os with sliced franks (so delicious!!!) and for desert, Jello. How trashy! But more importantly, how sodium-rich!

Then yesterday we decided to walk over to a pub for a spot of lunch and a beer. It was probably around half-a-mile, maybe a bit more. I wore my flip-flops, and wouldn't you know it, my pinkie toes developed some nice baby blisters by the time we arrived. Blargh. After lunch we ambled back, and this time I just went barefoot, looking to avoid making things worse. Unfortunately for me, I'm an idiot. Not only was barefoot walking rough on the soles of my apparently-coddled feet, but along the balls of BOTH feet I scored myself some nice heat blisters!

There I am, trying to soak them in the tub and clean the feet off, then propping them up on the ottoman while The Gal went to work with a pair of tweezers and a paper towel to wipe up the goop.

So very unsweet.

The rest of the night I alternated between walking as though I'd had my ass roughed up by some prison lifers, and doing my best to walk normally in a pair of sneakers while biting down to hide the pain from The Gal's folks when we went to dinner.

This morning at the gym I put the flip flops back on to take a shower, and yikes - not my best idea. Furthermore, my work shoes and their decidedly lacking padding have me hobbling about like an arthritic geriatric.

And yet, all in all, a great weekend was had. Well, until I stepped on the scale this morning.

259.0.

We're done being white trash.

Oh, and fuck you sodium.

TGiF!

Overall, this week has been great. I've been within my calories every day so far, I've exercised HARD every day by increasing my elliptical level and going up in weights on my lifts, and tracking EVERYTHING with my LoseIt! application.

This morning I weighed in at 256.8 - that's down three pounds for the week. Huzzah!

Looking forward to the weekend in a big way right now. I've got sleep, cable and internet hookup, and couch repair on my schedule for certain, with other activities TBA. Hope you're doing well and looking forward to a great weekend yourself. See you Monday!

256.8

Wednesday

Hey - too busy at work to post anything other than that I'm down a bit today. Yay.

257.6

Tuesday

According to my LoseIt! reporting (which for the first time I was perfect with yesterday), I achieved a 59 calorie deficit against my 2079 daily calorie budget. Yay! Now, I could be slightly off as I don't know *exactly* how many calories were in the spaghetti & meatballs (I assumed I ate 2 cups), nor in the chips/cheese I had as a snack, but I tracked everything and this is what I ended up with. I think even if I'm slightly off, the big thing is that I managed to track, and I wasn't way over.

Today I got to the gym earlier, but still a bit late. I went way up on my pulldowns, going from three sets of fifteen at 110 pounds to 140 pounds instead. Then I did the t-bar row and did three sets of fifteen at 70 pounds. Dan and I mixed in doing reverse situps (working the lower back instead of the abs), doing a set of 15 while the other guy did his set of t-bar. That *really* got the sweat going, which felt great. So, another day of working the back is now complete!

Yesterday I did do one big whoops... I noticed by about 3pm that I had a killer headache. Now, I don't normally *get* headaches, so something was clearly off. I thought about it, then realized that I'd only had a Diet Coke for caffeine in the morning. I was going through some serious withdrawal. On my way home, I stopped at a gas station and saw a can of Diet Coke. Then I saw a can of Mountain Dew. Then I saw a BOTTLE of Mountain Dew. Guess which one your brave hero purchased? Yeah... 340 calories worth of idiocy there, and another 200 in the form of a candy bar. Fuck me.

Anyway, that's the report from here today.

Oh, I did step on the scale this morning - 260.0 on the nuts. I do have to remember that this is prior to working out and not my normal weigh-in, so I'd normally clock in somwhere around 258 if I were still on my old weigh-in schedule. But I'm not. So I'm officially now stating that even though every weigh-in I've had on this blog for the past year is post-workout, going forward they won't be. That's okay. I know that I'm not up 5 pounds from my lowest, I'm only up 3, but at this point I'm just going to officially say 5 and work from there. It'll just be easier than the stupid mental recalibration.

So there you are. I'm doing well, I feel like I'm starting to regain control of my life as my apartment is being put back together, I'm spending lots more time with my favorite person (she had dinner ready and waiting for me when I got home from work yesterday - how cool is that?!?), and I'm hitting the gym regularly again, along with tracking and blogging. I think I'm back on track, but I must must MUST remain ever vigilant against the dreaded backslide.

Be well friends.

260

Another Monday

This morning the alarm went off at 4:45. As I awoke, I heard the rain pouring down from outside my window. I hit the snooze button, then nine minutes later I hit the snooze again. I didn't allow for the full 9 minutes a second time, instead forcing myself up and out to face the dark and dreary day.

I brushed my teeth, grabbed my bag, then decided to skip the scale. I didn't want to know. Instead, I grabbed a morning bar and some caffeine in the form of a Diet Coke, then went outside in the wet to my car, starting up the drive.

It was pouring. Hard. I couldn't go my normal speed, and even with the reduced speed I still felt the car get away from me twice, hydroplaning briefly before I eased off the accelerator and got it under control. I can't use the cruise control when it's pouring, as I cannot just hit the brakes when the car gets loose - I need to be in control of it all the time.

I got to the gym, though late. I did a quick 5 minute warm-up on the elliptical, then went to the weight room. I upped my front and side lateral raises from 10 to 12 pounds, doing 3 sets of 15 reps each there, then did 3 sets of 15 at 100 pounds on the upright rows.

Shoulders flaring, I went back to the locker room, where I realized that I'd left my towel at home. Thankful I was late and didn't work up too much of a sweat with cardio for once in my life, I put on my work clothes and headed in.

I'm hopeful for positive change on the scale this week, though I realize that it's not up to wishes and hopes, it's up to me. I need to do better. I need to work out harder, I need to watch what goes in my mouth more carefully. I need to eliminate alcohol from my nightly TV watching. I need to get more focused.

Over the weekend I received more compliments on the weight loss from people who hadn't seen me in awhile. I humbly accepted the well-wishes with a thanks, but inside I felt like a phony. I should be doing much better than I am. I need to do much better than I am. I cannot be on auto-pilot, allowing another month to slip away while just maintaining. I'm still somewhere between 255 and 260, and I have to find a way to improve that. I have to be losing again.

The recent months of not losing? It's killing me.

Monday!

This past weekend was full of excitement as I finally packed up the moving truck and went South, moving to be closer to my special lady friend. I've been really anxious about this thing actually happening, so I'm pleased that it's finally come and past now.

Leading up to the move, I hadn't been sleeping well for weeks. Last week I was up until 2, 2, 3, 4, then Friday night I didn't sleep a minute. She showed up around 9am, and I was ready to go - everything all boxed up. The movers came around 11am, and it took 2.5 hours to pack up the truck. A bit of cleaning later (thanks honey!), and we were on the road. Of course there was some issue with taking posession of the apartment, but it all worked out in the end and I'm probably 35% unpacked and set up.

This morning I was up at 4:45, drove to the gym, and I'm now at work. I'm ready to not have to think about Will The Move Actually Happen? and the associated potential pitfalls that accompany this line of thinking. Now I'm ready to once again blog and focus on my weight-loss issues.

I find that while I can multi-task to a degree, I can really only handle one Big Issue at a time. Whereas it was weight loss, it had switched to relationship/move in the past month. Ergo, less blogging, less thinking about how to improve, etc. But now I'm ready to switch back, read more, work out harder, do all the things I need to do to make my weight loss my #1 Big Issue again.

While I went to the gym a bit last week, I didn't go often enough, nor did I lift weights when I went - only did the stationary bike. This morning saw me pounding out upright rows, front raises and lateral raises, plus a couple miles on the elliptical. I worked up a bit of a sweat, but not a huge deluge, which is indicitive of too much sodium in my system. Not surprising, as last night I had a pork sandwich and french fries with ranch dressing and some potato salad and a couple beers from a delivery place. It was good, and I knew I was making that decision when I ordered it, but that's the last order like that. Next time we get BBQ, I'll just get the grilled chicken sandwich and water.

I stepped on the scale and saw 259 this morning. Now, normally I weigh-in after getting home from the gym (shut up - it maximizes my low number, but since I always am consistent like that the number of pounds lost is *always* accurate!), but I guess I'm going to have to weigh in earlier now. Which means that I'll be a pound up on what I used to weigh in. Eh, I'll figure it out. I always do.

259.5

Another late one

As the end of the month draws nearer, I've been trying to balance packing my current apartment for the move, extra gym visits, spending time with The Gal, spending time with my friends, work and sleep. Last night I had a buddy hit me up, wanting to do something. I had intended on throwing some clothes in the washer then heading to the gym then coming home to fill more boxes, but instead I agreed to watch a movie and score a bit of buddy time.

Unfortunately, the time scale means that as one thing gets more time, other things get less. Last night, along with the gym and the packing, sleep lost out. I was up until 1 am, doing a whole lot of nothing. BTW - I found myself watching a movie on AMC. It started at 9:30 and ended at 12. That's 2 1/2 hours, but the movie is only 90 minutes long. Two minutes of commercials for every three minutes of content? Insanity. No wonder people want to DVR stuff, watch on Hulu, get Netflix or rent DVDs. I can't wait to not watch TV again -- I only got cable this past January to watch Lost, and when I move I don't know that I'm necessarily inclined to get cable again. I'll have wifi and can just watch Hulu and Netflix via my Xbox 360 or PS3.

I did really well tracking and eating yesterday, but the 4.5 hours of sleep is clearly having an effect. Yesterday I weighed in at 256.0, but today I was 256.5 -- this is with decent eating and two gym visits. Grrr, argh.

Post #200

Huh, looks like this is my 200th post. Not too sure what that means, outside of the fact that there's a bit of longevity in writing about weight loss. Of course, it comes on the heels of me not writing for a week and a half, so perhaps I shouldn't be tooting my horn too much regarding my propensity for scrawling "you're fat" notes to myself.

In any event, I'm back.

So I've been wrestling some with this whole I've-only-lost-5-pounds-this-month thing, and thought about it from a few different angles. Maybe I need to change the routine? Less food? More water? More cardio? Less weight, more reps? No weightlifting? Only weightlifting?

For no real good reason, I thought back to the first time I found out what my BMR was. BMR stands for basal metabolic rate, and it is how many calories you would need to maintain your current weight if you were to lay in bed all day.

I first found out about the BMR back in my heaviest days. I was amused at how many calories I needed just to maintain my then-current status: 2825. Wasn't an average guy's diet only 2000 calories? And that assumes that the average guy, you know, like, did stuff. Throughout the day. Like... get out of bed. I'd estimate that I was eating roughly 3k at that time, which is why I kept rising in weight. I also had little muscle as I wasn't active in the least. So I decided to dial back my caloric intake.

Well, I just punched my numbers in again. This time it turns out I need 2325 - 500 less calories a day. Even though I dialed my caloric intake down from the start of my program, I haven't been rechecking myself every 10 pounds like I probably should have been. So I realize that while I've been eating almost exactly what my current BMR is - not the best way to drop pounds kids, even with the whole getting out of bed fairly regularly thing.

So this week I'll be tracking my calories fairly religiously to see 1) what nonsense I'm really up to these days, and 2) where I can cut calories to up my caloric deficit and get the weight loss that I want. And because I can fall prey to gimmicky bullshit from time-to-time, I'll be doing it with a bit of help from an iPhone application called Lose It!, which seems to have a ton of different food types and portion sizes in it's database. Pretty cool little toy, and it can add in workouts against your day too, so you can see recommended calories, total caloric intake, and total bonus exercise expenditure.

Anyone out there using Lose It! or similar calorie-tracking, weight-loss software or applications? I'm curious as to who else is doing this and what sort of success you're having.

256.8