Monday, April 25, 2011
Moderate Sized Loser
I started at my new job just in time to qualify for their "Biggest Loser" contest. I have been waiting 10 years for this to happen. You see, the problem with me is this:
If I don't have a force outside of myself to motivate, then I won't do it. In high school I ran track and wrestled. I went to state for both my senior year, and I was a physical specimen to be celebrated and studied.
The day of the state track semifinals would be my last day of serious workout up until this point. I'm embarrassed to say just how long ago that was, so let's just say I had my ten year reunion this last fall. Yes, of course I have worked out since then, but never more than two days in a week, and never more of that than two weeks in a row. I believe the last "run" I went on took place sometime in the second term of the Bush Administration.
"Doesn't he have, like, no will power when it comes to food?" Someone, WHO SHALL GO NAMELESS, asked Jess this when told I would be going on a diet. The problem is that it's true. I believe I've blogged about this before, but I do live my life shamelessly as a self-diagnosed food addict. Food is how I tell people I love them, food is my favorite recreational activity, "good" is what I keep writing instead of "food" because that's all it is in my mind, a bunch of really good stuff that will make me feel really good.
So my joyous relationship to food has saddled me with about 40 pounds that I didn't have the day I left high school. Yes, some of that was "filling out" weight, but just how much is hard to say. Over the years I've thought it would be nice to maybe shed some of that, but there was no real way to do this because, as I said, if it's up to only me, then it's not going to happen. But if the challenge is issued from outside of myself, and especially when you tell me there is a prize for the winner, I temporarily fold up and put away the loser I really am in a drawer somewhere, and the claws come out.
What I really came her to say was this: I'm anticipating going through some type of serious withdrawal action. If you've seen Trainspotting then you have an idea of what I fear is on the way. I have to cut back on my food and my beer. It's easy enough to write as I sit here at the sterile comfort of my workspace, but being in the mostly anonymous confines of my home, I know, will be a different story. I'm thinking that if I exorcise my titanic desire for the real American good groups, salt, fat and sugar, through my pen, that might just give me a shot at success.
I may morph into a creature unrecognizable on this blog over the next couple of weeks, but thank you for taking part in my pain, I suspect you won't regret it.