Fat dog

You can give the dog tacos if he does his trick

Part of the new diet that I started last week is to get my flabby, smelly self to the gym at least every once and a while.  While seemingly good, this strategy faces a mogul.  Herein lies the problem; at the heart of every diet there is a monster lurking waiting to rear its ugly head.  Since I have limited my work-outs to binge eating and seldom vomiting (great for your abs but not your self-esteem), it has been much more difficult to move around efficiently.

I liken it to one of those gym commercials on TV.  In the commercial, every body’s fit and looking good.  The price in the ad suggests you could afford a membership to the gym, and maybe that’s true.   However, since you lack any sort of physique (let alone a healthy one) and risk judgment from other members, you permanently fix yourself to the sofa.  You essentially decide that in order to fit in at the commercial’s gym, you’d first have to join a less reputable gym filled with ugly people that you feel comfortable around until you developed into a worthy specimen.  In other words, there’s a lot of work involved just to start the work that’s involved.  Clearly, not worth it.

And that’s me.  I decided that getting old, fat me up and off the couch is a work-out in itself.  It’s such a heavy burden to bear, in fact, that such work usually deserves a salty/sugary/fat laden snack or two, or three, or just gimme the whole box, dammit!

The cycle will continue until one day, I look out from the body of an enormous gastropod only to see that TLC is filming in my living room.  Yes, the TV that I ignored for so long will find me out once again, thus, showing me what a waste I’ve become.  I imagine that the producers of “House Whale” will try convincing me of some exotic and new gastric bypass surgery that, in the event it doesn’t kill me, will take me down a size or two, or three, or just gimme…

Unfortunately, after some initial excitement, I imagine the brochures that the producers show me to sell their fancy surgery are riddled with svelte recovering fat freaks.  I will again hold that I could only accept the exotic bypass procedure if first I incurred a smaller surgery at a less reputable clinic.  The producers will discuss the issue and ultimately reject my claim.  I will wither away into a fifteen hundred pound puddle of tears and nothing more.

No matter how hard I work-out, there is no way I will ever lose the ugly head.

 

Ever since high school, I’ve been hip to the health scene.  I’m familiar with the rules that insure a healthy life:  eating the right foods, exercising regularly and burning more calories than I ingest are crucial to successful living.

Since high school, however, I have avoided these rules like the plague.   Nothing turns my buttons like a fifteen thousand calorie day packed full of stuffing my fat face at a buffet or drinking my way through a suitcase of beer.  It pains me to think that these days of extravagant indulgence are over.  I have neglected my body too long.  As a result of my willie-nilly relationship with exercising and dieting, my heart hurts.

So, starting today, I have decided to adhere to a lifestyle change: a specific diet of no more than 2500 calories a day combined with regular exercise, lots of water and a daily vitamin.  I am tracking my calorie intake at www.my-calorie-counter.com.  Right now, I’m a flabby 221 pounds…I’d like to weigh less (somewhere around 185).  My BMI is somewhere between “ech” and “fatty”.  I’d like to maintain this plan for six months or until it becomes habitual.  I made a chart with my wife to help track progress and plan out meals.Chart Progress

I have a gym membership that has been collecting dust for months.  I will work out at least three times a week for at least 45 minutes per time.  I’m ready, I’m able and I’m willing.  Here we go!  It’s time to kick start this bitch!

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