Memoirs of a Soon-to-Be Former Fat Guy

Howdy, pardners!

I’m no longer a big fan of living in the past. Let’s get that out of the way up front. I think that our pasts shape us, make us who we are today, and filter our perceptions of the world around us. Take snow for example (No, not the really terrible wannabe rapper Snow who had that really, really stupid “Informer” song), but the flakes of frozen precipitation that tend to accumulate during the winters here in the Amish paradise.

To someone like me, who grew up in Pennsylvania, snow is no fun. It’s pretty when it’s falling, but since I invariably have to shovel it, and have had to shovel it for many years, I despise it. To someone who is a skier, fresh snow means fresh opportunities to hit the slopes and not have to deal with artificial snow. To someone raised in the tropics as a child, snow can fill you with a sense of wonder. Three people, three takes on the same thing, all due to their pasts.

I don’t believe that living in the past is the answer. I did my share of it for a long time. That does not mean I don’t cherish many of my memories, like when I had hair. You see, all the wishing in the world is not going to grow that hair back, just the same as all the wishing in the world won’t make you prom queen or football hero again. Remember the feelings that went along with your status, but accept that fact that those days are gone.

When I look back, I often talk about being that much thinner (but not as much as I talk about my hair). Since I never had one of those lean builds, I got teased a lot for being a fat kid. I was kind of pudgy, but not really fat. Kids can be cruel. The little voice inside your head says, “Well, maybe you are fat.” If you hear that voice enough, you start to believe it. It becomes that much easier to let yourself go. It also winds up in denial. “I’m not fat! I have big bones!” “Well, I may be fat, but I have a glandular condition. I can’t do anything about it.” I didn’t really have either when I started, but it would get people off my back, so I would spout off the denials.

When you go to many of the addiction programs, they always tell you that the first step is admitting you have a problem, that you are powerless over drugs, alcohol, cheeseburgers, etc. That was the hardest part for me. Admitting that yes, I wear shirts large enough to hide a band of desert nomads, and homeless nomads or not, something needs to be done about this. I would read articles about Southwest Airlines making heavier people pay for two seats, or the entire debacle with Kevin Smith being “too fat to fly” and instead of saying, “What do I do if I ever want to fly Southwest?” I would rail against the airline, claiming that I refuse to fly them because they are being discriminatory toward fat people. What a bunch of crap I was spouting. I know that now and the crap won’t be surfacing again.

Enough pontificating for one morning. Had a good day all around yesterday. Managed to clean the first floor of the house and keep the food in check. Since the temperature was so nice, I got a great walk in, 2.02 miles, according to iPedometer. Had some chicken, rice and peas with the obligatory Tabasco, snacked on half a cup of pistachios, some carrots and celery and some sugar-free Jello. The sugar-free Jello is great, especially if you mix your own. You can make 8 servings out of a big box and it will cost you about a buck. We have some small 1/2 cup plastic containers that we use for Jello, they’re great for portion control and everything is pre-measured. The serving of Jello is 10 calories and makes for a nice, refreshing snack.

I did go out after work for drinks with The Management and a friend. Sitting on the deck at the Villa Nova West sipping a couple pints of Yuengling Lager was just what the doctor ordered. Maybe not the best choice for the diet, but it was great for the mind. The karaoke, however, was not so great on the ears. As we were on the deck, we weren’t subjected to as much as we might have been, but listening to some overaged pro-am barfly caterwaul her way through an off-key rendition of Stevie Nicks’ “Edge of Seventeen” was kind of painful. There was nowhere near enough beer being consumed to get me to break out the Frank Sinatra, though, so Lancaster County was safe for another night. Even though it was our first time there,  can I just say that the Tuesday night bartender is awesome? I didn’t catch his name, but he came outside to make sure some people left and we chatted a bit.

So, today should bring a trip to Mechanicsburg and Wegman’s. It sucks that the greatest grocery store ON THE PLANET is about 40 minutes away, but we still go periodically. Great prices on meats and produce. I’m going to work on the bar a bit before we go.

This is my last week of work before four weeks off. I’m worried as to what will happen when I’m off and The Management is at work. Can I continue to work hard and avoid the temptation to eat the lining off the fridge due to sheer boredom?

I’d like to think I’m strong enough to do so. With your support, I know I can be.

Thanks for reading.

Today’s weight: 306.0 (down 14.0 from last Thursday)