Drum roll please...

I know this number isn't much lower than the last one, but as I mentioned, I plateaued a bit this week.  Now, the plus side is I'm down a LOT of inches overall.

I know, i should have given my scale a wipedown.

You get the point.

-P

Nothing tastes as good as being a smug, skinny asshole feels.

"Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels"

Bullshit.  Skinny isn't a measurement of health, therefore skinny doesn't "feel" like anything.  Terminally ill people are skinny.  Starving people in Africa are skinny.  Stupid phrases like this are just ignorant and pointless.  They don't motivate, they demean.

You know what feels good?  Feeling good about yourself.  Did you know that there are a lot of miserable skinny assholes in this world?  It's true.  I also happen to know some very happy fat people.  Hell, I'm cynical, but I'm happy.

So, next time you feel tempted to say something to motivate a person to lose weight, maybe you should just stick to something realistic and not so fucking smug.

Cheers!
-P

Every ten pounds..

I'm fairly certain I'm going to get stuck every ten pounds or so.  I'm positive that I've lost many inches as I'm fitting into much smaller clothes this week, but I've began hovering again, this time right around the 250 mark.

Now, I know it's not good to obsessively weight yourself, but A) I like to, and B) It helps me see what my variations are.  If I notice a particular fluctuation from one day to another, I can pinpoint the foods/behaviors that may be the culprit, rather than do something for days/weeks at a time and not understand the effect on weight.

On a big plus side, my fancy new scale does read body fat and hydration, which makes it a LOT easier to see what I'm losing and how much of my weight is excess water.

30 Pounds of Fuck You

I'll post a progress picture on Sunday (my weigh-in day), but I just wanted to report in that since my highest weight this last summer, I've lost at least 30 lbs.  Though I started this blog in the high-270s, I can assure you that I was at least 281+ at the peak (yuck).  This is something I'm pretty excited about as it has really demonstrated an impressive level of effectiveness while still enjoying a fairly flexible and non-regimented lifestyle.  Like I've mentioned in the past, the only reason I'm not following any kind of workout regimen is because I want to test the effectiveness of diet without a change in exercise as the (rather well-founded) hypothesis is that weight loss has little to nothing to do with exercise.  In my case, that hypothesis has held water.
Of course, this isn't to say that there's NO merit in exercise.  In fact, I believe quite the contrary.  Being active is good for the body, heart and mind and I see no reason to bash it.  It just pains me to see heavy people beat the crap out of themselves, drive up their hunger level, and most times just give up in the end out of the drive to look thinner.  If you can get the diet in line, the exercise can be independent of it and compliment overall health. In this situation, losing the weight first will help motivate and the level of effort isn't too discouraging.
Of course, I always hear the "I couldn't live without carbs" rhetoric.  In which case I say "Fuck off, whiner".

-P

Where do fat belts go when they die? (They don't go to heaven where the angels fly)

I've owned this belt for about 10 years (maybe more).  It has been with me through every weight fluctuation of that time frame.  It has never failed me, until today.

I've finally gotten too small for this belt.  It has seen its last supporting role in my wardrobe.  This trusty belt went with me on every tour, through every job and TV show I worked, and held me up when my hands were full with life's responsibilities.  This belt is kind of like Jesus.

But, like Jesus, this belt has no purpose in my life, and I couldn't be more delighted.  I honestly never thought about what kind of significance "under-growing" it would have.  I just always wore it and occasionally found myself having to use a different notch (for better or worse).  The idea of being too small for it never really crossed my mind.

This weekend I went up to my family cabin in the mountains with my wife to celebrate her birthday.  I fully expected to come back 100 lbs heavier due to my lack of responsibility when I am deep in the woods with a fridge full of beer, but I did OK.  To my credit, though, I made "the best cake" my wife has ever had.  I had a piece.  It was pretty good but it tasted like dirty, dirty guilt.

Long story short, I strapped on my belt on Saturday morning and noticed it didn't really hug my hips at all.  Though I knew this day would come, I never really pictured when it would happen or how I would feel.  Part of me felt a little wistful knowing that my trusty, old, beat up belt would never hold my pants up again.  Most of me, on the other hand, felt pretty fucking satisfied.  While we were out, I bought a much smaller belt at the local mercantile.

And so begins a new era...

Gluttony and sloth. The winner's recipe.

Our weather as of late has taken a pretty big turn.  We've got snow on the hill and I'm already breaking out my old trusty jackets.  Winter also means that we're about to start eating and drinking like a bunch of assholes and do next to nothing activity-wise.  I'm not complaining about this, though.  Cutting carbs means you can pretty much eat like an asshole as long as you avoid the carby bullshit.

Of course, winter is carb season.

No matter.  My results have been so positive as of late that I'll be damned if I'll let some cookies and mashed potatoes fuck this up.  I guess I'm of the opinion that looking like a douchebag will always be better than eating like one.

So with that, I will take my leave.  I've got some fat to burn off.  By sitting.  And eating.

Fuck yeah

It's finally going according to plan...

251.1 pounds of excellence, thank you very much.

   I hit a plateau this week, but I broke it with a vengeance.  As of my last post, I got my weight down below the plateau but as it turns out I still fluctuated right back into the range it was stalling in.  I stuck to my guns and kept my resolve, and it paid off.  This weekend I have been eating like shit and drinking beer (light beer, mind you), so I'm probably stalled a little right now, but the numbers don't lie.

So, as I enter the new week with a good amount of motivation, a lot of things are occurring to me.  For one, I'm going to have to buy all new clothes.  Pants are already getting loose on me and my shirts are starting to fit like crap.  Unfortunately I don't really know what size shirt to buy anymore because I have really big, broad shoulders and a barrel chest, but the shrinking stomach is starting to leave my t-shirts looking like a ghost from Pac-Man or something.

Fuck you, reality!

Secondly, the psychology of weight loss is interesting.  I was walking around the house in a tank top the other day feeling lean and mean, when I caught a glimpse of my love handles in the mirror.  It's really annoying because I'm just trying to enjoy my success and reality is trying to tell me "Less fat is not thin".  Shut your whore mouth, reality.  I look great in a tank top.

Needless to say, I won't be going sleeveless for a while.
Anyway, that's my story for the week.  I might be here tomorrow if the Packers game goes long and I need to bitch about my willing consumption of beer.

Cheers.