I don't do drugs either.
I quit smoking two and a half years ago.
And I've been relatively successful at curbing my profuse cursing in public.
But I'm still fat.
It's something I've struggled with all of my life, or as much of it as I can remember, anyway.
I'm sure babies have some kind of critique system for each other, but clinicians haven't pinned it down enough to make it into the psych books. I don't recall any babies I might have known to have ever poked fun at me about it.
But it's true.
I'm 5 foot, six and three quarters inches tall, and I weigh two hundred and twenty four pounds.
That's pretty fat--obese if you want to get technical and do the math, which I just did.
Now I know some people might say, "F. Alex Johnson, you shouldn't be so hard on yourself, you just took on the biggest foe in your vivathalon" (which, I might add is a word you heard here first--it means an endurance competition to stay alive the longest) "and you should cut yourself some slack."
Slack, once an addictive person has tasted it, quickly becomes more than an occasional indulgence.
It becomes a daily requirement which we demand and profess to deserve with the slightest provocation.
"Oh, come on ... cut me some slack, willya?"
In other words, I'm fat and I need to do something about it before my freshly clean liver gets into an argument with my poor, overworked heart. I can see it now. It would likely start over a comment about unsafe working conditions, and why does Heartman has to work twice as hard as Liverman, who just sits there regenerating and regenerating and looking better and better each and every day, while Heartman has to pump, and pump, and stress, and strain, just to keep this crazy sober fool alive so he can write in his stupid blog how healthy and sane he feels now.
Yes, that was my heart yelling at my liver. They used to be friends. They used to commiserate together on what a crappy job they both had. Now look at them.
Also, I refuse to buy a pair of pants with a waistline of bigger than 40, regardless of how many buttons I have to repair. Shrink-to-fit, my ass.
So, I've decided to tackle this challenge the only way I think it will work: publicly.
Lord knows it has helped me stick to my guns on all the other counts.
I'm not going to deviate too much from my M.O. I'm going to still write about whatever the hell I feel like, but I'm going to dedicate a portion of a post once a week and provide information I feel will be interesting to people who don't know me, as well as the people who do. Because the people who do know me, most likely remember when I weighed 190 pounds back in 2002.
That's right. I had gone on a exercise kick back then, and lost 35 pounds--about as much as I need to lose now.
How did I do it?
I exercised, I ate a lot of fish and salads, and I switched from beer to vodka.
I'm not kidding.
I quit the beer, and worked out every single day, and then bought a pint of vodka and got cocked, and somehow or other, I lost the weight.
And guess what? I put it all back on--fast. Really fast.
So now, I have the same thing to do: lose 35 pounds. But, this time around I will have an advantage. I won't be drinking the pint of vodka a day. That's a lot of calories. At 64 calories an ounce, that's a whopping one thousand twenty-four calories a pint.
That's half of what a normal diet should include for the whole day.
So, what is my plan?
First off, I've hired a personal trainer. His name is James and he works at my gym. He is giving me a super deal, and, seeing as I just signed up for the whole summer there, it made sense. I'll be seeing him once a week. Presently, we're working on putting a schedule together that is reasonable and attainable. Then I've got to buckle down (no pun intended) and get to it.
As some of you know, I'm spending a good amount of time at my aunt's place in Mattapoisett. I have a lot of work to do at her house, which I'm actually looking forward to. Also, she is going through some stuff right now which entails having me available to help her when she needs it. I would have it no other way.
But, the cool thing is, she has a professional-style treadmill, and I just found out how much fun they are to use.
In fact, after a brisk, fifteen minute warm-up supervised by James, I stepped off of the treadmill, only to find myself thrust into a heady, out-of-body feeling of euphoria that brought me back to some of my more fond memories of ... well ... of getting high ...
... a runner's high, if you will.
But, you don't see too many support groups for people who lost control of their lives because of an insatiable urge to go out and run. From what I hear, it's a pretty healthy activity.
So, today is the beginning of a new chapter in my life.
I plan to lose thirty five pounds by the end of September. That's a little over two pounds a week. I think I can do that. I'm sure I can do that. I've done it before.
But now, it's a bit different.
Because last time, when I did it, I told myself, "well, I'm drinking and drugging, and smoking every day, but at least I'm exercising and losing weight. At least I'm doing something productive and healthy."
Now, it's just another apple in the basket--a basket that is bursting at the seams.
... not unlike my trousers.
Thanks for reading.
Vivathalon: Starting week plan:
Day one: Circuit weight training/cardio. (done)
Day two: Rest (done--duh)
Day three: 45 minutes of cardio. (done)
Day four: Circuit weight training/cardio tbd
Day five: 45 minutes cardio tbd
Day six: Circuit weight training/cardio tbd
Day seven: 60 minutes cardio tbd
I'll revisit and review this topic on Tuesday, (fat Tuesday, if you will) 6/10.
F.A.J. (Fat Ass Johnson) soon to change ... stay tuned ...
Starting weight, Tuesday, 6/3: 224 lbs.