Day 3

Today was a little different than others. I woke up and took a test in one of my online courses, and then studied for one I have tomorrow. I woke up a little earlier than usual (9:30), and got done just before 1:00 again. I ate my leftovers and watched a movie. I was heading to the store after to pick up some hygiene materials, but got a call from my dad to meet him at our usual golf course. I ended up there just a few minutes later and getting my, and his clubs into a cart. I didn't walk today, since we were initially pressed for time. We were going to try to fit nine holes in under two hours, and I knew I wouldn't be able to walk it in that time, and so we rode in the cart.

Golfing was pretty good. I started the first six holes at just four over par. That's unheard of for me. Then, I had a meltdown and finished at twelve over. But, more strokes = more workout, so I guess I came out on top. And the reason for our playing quick was dismissed a couple holes before we got done, and so we played the other nine holes. I shot a 95 for the day, and still working to bogey golf. It was a pretty good afternoon.

My breakfast was a weight watchers ice cream bar... again, and the lunch was leftover chicken Parmesan with pasta. Dinner was french toast, bacon, and eggs. It was really good, and filled me up well. I spent the rest of the evening trying to watch movies online, but with my bad internet connection, watching was slow. I think I got 1/3 through a movie in two hours, so I stopped and decided to go workout.

I biked today for an hour. I was surprised I finished since the first ten minutes seemed to take forever. I was watching a tv show while riding, and time flew by once I got into it. That reminds me, I got to see how many calories I burned doing that. Hold on.... 1272 Calories.... huh.... seems a little high. If anyone knows any better, let me know -- 400 lbs, 1 hour stationary bike, 14.8 miles.

So, I got that going for me... which is nice. I now have a nice evening routine. I put a pair of underwear in my bathroom, ready for when I get done working out. Then, I grab my water bottle and towel, and head to my hot tub to set the temperature. It idles at 98, but I like it closer to 103. So, I set it, set my flip-flops next to the hot tub, and then continue to the garage where I ride the stationary bike. When I get done, I simply remove my sweaty shirt, and jump into the hot tub for fifteen minutes. I get out, and head into the bathroom to shower, with my underwear all ready for me. I'm worn out, relaxed, and clean in the same time it takes to watch a Disney movie. I'm pretty happy about this. I reduced the friction between my thighs with a cream. It really helped, and I hardly noticed it.

Now, I'm feeling pretty good about the day, spending half of it off the couch, and it has been rather productive. And another tidbit about my current situation is that I have asthma. In January of this year, the week spring semester started, I started having asthma attacks. These attacks continued until one month ago, almost to the day. I took my albuterol, and advair as I was directed, but only found relief in the steroid prednisone. I took the steroid almost daily for four months; and during the entire span of time, I was not able to do a single thing. And I mean that almost literally.

I had such a hard time breathing, that walking around campus took an additional twenty minutes to go from one building to an adjacent one. My asthma doctor told me that the two factors causing the attacks were the cold and the pollution. And since I had already well into the semester when I got the diagnosis, I couldn't simply drop my classes. After coordinating with my professors, and working out a deal with additional work in exchange for my lack of attendance, since I would surely not be there for most of the semester, I began my rehabilitation from home.

Even though I only left the house for things that were absolutely necessary, and kept a clock next to me at all times to take my medication exactly as directed, it took four months to be free of it. Now, advair is all I need. But try to imagine yourself without having the air to move for four months. And then, suddenly, you can. I tried to do the things I used to before the attacks, but I didn't have the lung strength to. Now, I'm in a warmer climate with considerably less pollution for the summer, and I can focus on building lung capacity and strength back up. It feels like I'm beginning behind square one, and it really blows. Going for an hour on a stationary bike is such a HUGE deal for me, not being physically capable of it for such a long period of time. And, as you can imagine, I gained some great weight during the time when I was just sitting on my ass all day for four months. I have never been in the 400 pound range in my entire life. I got close, 396, I think, but never broke that line. Now, I'm into the 400's, and I am finding it very difficult to get back out of it. I weighed in at my asthma doctor's office right before leaving for the summer, a couple days after the attacks stopped, and I was at 420 pounds. I weighed in a couple weeks after that, and I was down to 409, and the week after had me at 404. I'm sure that as soon as I break that 400 barrier, I will see a significant difference in how my body moves and feels. My overall goal is 230 pounds. 190 pound weight loss -- that's a high school senior wide receiver.... ugh... weird.

I'm going to get some sleep now, and hope that I get the rest I need for my exam.

Fat Score: 4

Day 2

I do suppose there's some logic to doing this every day. I can give an honest accounting for each and every day, though nobody is expected to take the accountings. In this way, I can feel a sense of rectification for the wrongs I may have committed for the day, and the actions I did not, but should have taken.

Today, being the first day I was aware that I would have to give an honest accounting of, I feel simply okay about it. I say that I would have to give an honest accounting because I am a creature with the belief that if I make a commitment to myself, I would be better off keeping that commitment than running aground and fleeing. I've had too many bad experiences that are associated with personal commitments gone south than to attempt to mess with.

As for anything that I dedicate myself to, I follow two simple rules that help guide my decisions for odd circumstances. The first rule is to know myself. Regardless of the relationships I develop, destroy, strengthen, or retard, the one companion that will stay constant is myself. Above all that I do and think, I must understand and know that it is a choice that I would and should logically choose in harmony with myself. Now, I don't mean that if I don't benefit from a choice, I won't make it. Instead, I mean that if the choice will lead me down a path I have no business, in my own mind, walking down, I should not make that choice. But in order to be able to make such determinations, I must be consciously aware of myself at all times, whilst being mindful of others. My first rule is to know myself.

The second rule is to be true to myself at all times. It is more of an amendment to the first rule, but can occasionally stand alone. This rules simply means that I make the choices I feel are right at all times, regardless of the outcome. If the choice I feel is right will lead me to harm, I need to understand the value in keeping such integrity alive might have greater consequences that mere self-preservation. Regardless of religion, philosophy, theology, or belief system, I feel as though I can judge myself according to what I feel is the correct path. Any diversion of that path is a wrong against myself; and, in reflection of my first rule, can lead to much worse situations.

That is why I feel that I must give an accounting of my day -- because I told myself that I would, regardless of who might or might not see, or how it might or might not be displayed. All this from the semi-retarded friend.

Today was like most other days with a few changes. I woke up later than I knew I should have (10:30, I believe), and had a Weight Watchers ice cream bar for breakfast. Then, I retired to my basement with a 2-liter of diet root beer and began my studies. I had thought that I would need four hours of studying each day to keep up with my online courses, but I have learned in the last month that only a couple are truly needed, if I am committed for those two hours. So, I studied until just before 1:00 pm. In that time, I got four assignments done, and prepared for a couple of tests I have this weekend. I then spent the next two hours doing some yard/house work. I was going to rotate the tires on one of the cars, but I couldn't find the pump for the jack and decided to save it for tomorrow. Instead, I fixed two doors that wouldn't click shut anymore due to the shifting of the house. I just had to file down the plates on the door frame to make the tongue slide into place. Then, I decided it was time for lunch, even though I wasn't really hungry.

Now here's my dilemma with food -- when I am eating regularly, I can't seem to get enough of it; but when I diet, I don't ever seem to really crave it. And I know that simply not eating is very bad for the body, and so I eat out of ethics, but not out of hunger, and so I feel terrible about eating since I don't really think that I need to. So, I ate something low in calories, but high in density -- a turkey sub.

Thinking that the weather looked acceptable, I went golfing, and decided to walk the course. I had planned on going for at least nine holes, but it started to rain pretty good and I didn't want to ruin my iPhone with all the moisture, and quit after four holes. I was pretty tired, and now had an extra hour before I could think of anything remotely important that I had to do. So, I went home, back to the couch, and watched another movie to invigorate my motivation. It did just that, and then I was invited to dinner with my family. I wasn't as frugal as I should have been with my eating, though I did force myself to stop eating at the first hint of hunger dissipation, and only had a third of a dessert. For me, that's really big. So, I took a box, deciding to finish it tomorrow for lunch and went back to the house and watched another movie.

After the motivation was back, I decided to get on the stationary bike and get a good workout in. I got on the bike, but quickly found out that the shorts I had selected rode VERY high and pinched my Hardy Boys -- it was no mystery (HA!). And so I changed to an elliptical machine. That went okay for a couple minutes, then the dang thing kept coming off track. I guess there was just too much weight on it. So, I turned to the treadmill, knowing that I might break it if I bounce too much in step, and decided to take it slow until I was sure it wasn't going to explode.

I was able to get a good twenty minutes in on the treadmill before I stopped. *Note to self -- not wearing boxer-briefs while exercising in anticipation of getting into a hot tub after, creates too much friction in the thighs. I was developing sores and had to stop for sanity sake. Perhaps I'll try Vaseline or something to reduce the friction. We'll see. I'll keep you posted on that. Then, I got in the hot tub for about fifteen minutes, and then showered. Now, I'm sitting on my bed, thinking about finishing a movie I couldn't finish last night because of my internet acting weird. Starting on Day 5, I will be posting my weight as I will be weighing in every Saturday afternoon. My starting weight to this venture was about 420 pounds, and I am not much further down from that now.

Fat Score: 6

Guess which one I am?

I am enjoying yet another evening of watching movies and sitting on my fat ass. I have become rather proficient at this, being a daily practice for me. I just got done watching a movie where the guy gets the girl, despite unsurmountable odds that could have been simply side-stepped if he had his self-realization a little early in the show. Sweet, precious, tender, and all that jazz. Here is my problem with these shows that I insist on surrounding myself with -- the after feeling.

The after feeling that everything is going to be okay, and my problems can be conquered if I have a similar transformation as the main character. As much as I enjoy a good movie, the after feeling is always a bit of a two-edged sword for me. Because the moment I realize that my life ticks in real time, and not the cut-to-the-next-scene time that movies roll in, I understand that the side stepping takes a considerably longer period of time. And the problem with that is that the after feeling of the movie has worn off long after I have started the step, and now the motivation to stay out of the way of the wall is gone. Then I get knocked flat on my ass, back to the couch and watching another movie that will only perpetuate my terrible lifestyle.

This is a sort of journal for me, since I don't really keep any form of a journal, whilst being my therapy. Some would argue that a journal is inherently therapy, and I would agree to most degrees. But my therapy isn't the typical cry-my-eyes-out-and-confess-my-nightmares kind of therapy. Instead, I am going to be doing the only kind of useful therapy I have come to recognize -- physical.

I have tried to talk out my feelings and emotions, but most times, my emotions and feelings can't be categorized by the mere usage of words. Instead, I have found that when I am angry and I yawp, I can express far more the intentions of my feelings rather than simply saying, "I'm angry." So my therapy, barbaric as it may seem, will be an analysis of my life through the exploration of the physical being.

In short, I have a fat ass and would not like to have a fat ass any longer. I could go on and say all the feelings surrounding my fat ass, thus making it larger, but I would rather just get on with it. The only thing that might be pertinent to the why of this blog is the very reason for why in so many movies -- a girl. And though I haven't given her the slightest inclination that I have feelings besides that of friendship for her, I do believe that if I am to be successful in courting her, I have to give her the best option of me that I can afford -- and the current me is not, by any stretch of the imagination, the best option.

I have lost weight before, and it was a tedious and terrible experience. I kept the weight off for a couple of years, and then it slowly built back into the hulk I am today. The issue I had with how I was when I was thin was the person I had become. I was a douche bag. I took pleasure in leading girls on and then cutting them off, and I felt good about it. That's the kicker. When I was fat, I could never see myself doing that, because I considered myself lucky to even have a girl look at me twice; but once I got there, I became the kind of guy I despised. I sunk into depression, and ate myself back into my massive body.

Now here I am, feeling like I should lose the weight again, but not lose the me that wants me to be there. I want to lose weight, change lifestyles, and not have to worry about what body parts are going to hurt if I move faster than a leisurely stroll. And the reason I am not telling family, friends, or anybody else about this blog is the fact that almost everyone that I know is in much better shape than I am. And I absolutely HATE it when I have people cheering me on at the finish line, but nobody is walking beside me towards the goal. Nothing is more debasing than that. It almost feels like The Little Red Hen story where everybody is excited for the end result, but nobody wants to help with the work. In that instance, I would rather be at the finish line alone than have to put up with the incessant cheering the entire way. It would be easier to turn around and walk away from the irritating cheers.

So, I am going to go it alone, and walk to a different finish line. I'm not going to tell anybody about it, and even if their perceptions tell them that I have lost weight, I can simply veer away from the topic. I am bizarre enough that those that I associate with won't think anything of a sudden change in sub... I am currently having issues with my internet, and having issues with another show where yadda yadda yadda.

Heaven help anyone who stumbles onto this blog, but if you would like to check back with me, you are more than welcome to. I will hopefully find the time to right on this blog almost every day of the week, as I intend to give an accounting of my every day activity sheet, and possibly rate on a scale of 1 to 10 of how fat I am feeling for the day, with 10 being like Jabba the Hutt. If you happen to be someone like me, who hears or sees an advertisement for weight loss being pitched by a slender person, and desperately wishes to see them gain a couple hundred pounds to see if they're still cheering you on at the finish line, then I invite you to talk the walk with me. Because if the people that walk with you on your journeys through life are the same people that end up with you at the end of the race, you're success will have greater definition and meaning. The ends will, in this case, justify the means.

Fat score for the day: 10