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Fat Guy BJJ Blog

The slightly sarcastic, nominally entertaining Brazilian Jiu Jitsu adventures of a 30-something Dad

Month

April 2012

Day 6: When Did Everyone Get A Book Deal?

I used to read fitness and weight loss blogs because they were pithy, interesting, and helped me to not feel as if I were the only fat, ridiculous loser on the planet who still struggled with his weight.  It wasn’t about anything except communicating and being entertaining.  Now, as I browse some of those same blogs, I notice that everybody has a link to their “latest book.”  WTF?

Now, I realize that anybody can be “self-published” in this day and age, but surely not everyone is going that route.  It looks like people are actually getting paid to write about losing weight.  This bothers me on two levels:  First, I was obviously not paying attention while this entire shift in the universe was taking place.  It probably had something to do with a bag of Doritos and a pizza from Papa John’s.  That could more or less cause me to drop off the grid.  Second, it means that the market is already saturated with pithy books by wise ass fat people.  Unfortunately, that means I’m going to have to modify my five year plan to get on the Oprah book club and make a bazillion dollars.  Crap.

Well, I’ve still got my looks.  And my devilish charm.

*He takes a stick of celery and rubs it gently on his nipple.

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Day 5: Legs and Cardio and Pain and Discontent

So I thought it might be a good idea to schedule a leg workout on the same day as an hour long cardio session.  Now, I don’t have the good sense to take it easy on the legs, so I keep pushing myself.  The problem is that when I get done I can barely walk.  You know the feeling:  you’re all wobbly, holding yourself up going from machine to machine so you don’t fall down.  You’d gladly bear your shame and steal an old man’s walker just to help you get to your car…..

And then I have an hour of cardio to do on top of it.  I know it’s probably technically possible to do cardio without using your legs, but I don’t know how.  So, I got on the maniac machine and started peddling away.  Apparently my face turned a lovely shade of red because no fewer than five people asked if I was okay, and one offered to call an ambulance.  After it was all said and done, however, I had knocked out the leg workout AND the cardio.  Get some, bitches.

Now….to get to my car.  I’m writing this from my phone, six hours later, still laying beside the elliptical machine.  Hopefully they will check the machines before locking the doors.  Hello?  Anybody?  Help!

Day 4: The Mystery Pill Pack

So, I’m fat.  Big surprise, that’s kinda what this blog is about.  Nevertheless, I’m working out.  A lot.  Lots and lots of cardio.  That’s how we get unfat.  Get it?

The downside of being fat and doing a lot of cardio is that my everything hurts.  It’s impact after impact, day after day.  Granted, the more weight I lose the better it will get, but in order to lose the weight I get to continue to sweat to the oldies with Richard Simmons on my maniac machine of glory.  So, I go into GNC and ask the muscle-headed bastard at the counter if he “has anything to help with soreness and energy.”

Guy sells me a box for $50 bucks.  The box has little packages 0f pills.  Big pills.  Pills so big Jenna Jamison couldn’t swallow them.  These pills have no markings.  No names.  Some are clear.  Some are brown.  One is red.  I assume the red one is the culprit for causing me to run in circles for two hours screaming “Aaaaahhhhh Motherland!” as my heart rate increased to 290.

I don’t know what any of these pills do, or when I should be taking them, but I know what they don’t do…..cure soreness.  WTF.

Ah well.  There’s always the old ice bath.

My Nemesis

image

Aaaahhhh, my nemesis.  We meet again.

Day 3: A Weigh In and a Near Miss

So, I took my final exam yesterday in Modeling and Management of Operations, thus far my most serious nemesis in my nearly finished pursuit of an MBA at the University of North Florida.  When I opened the test and immediately noticed that I had no idea what the hell was going on, I almost bolted immediately from my seat, proceeded to the nearest 5 guys, and devoured 5000 calories worth of greasy bacon goodness.  You see, I’m an emotional eater, and I know that I stand no chance in hell of passing that test.  Sigh.

Instead, I forced myself into the car, drove past 5 guys at about  80 miles per hour so as not to scratch the itch, and proceeded home where I subsequently dined on the dinner of champions:  A 100 calorie pack of Cheez-Its.  WTF.

So, I got up this morning and weighed in, and I’ve nearly beaten the 330s.  I’m down to 331.8, which is a far cry from where I would have been if I had eaten that delicious, coma-inducing stack of meaty goodness from 5 guys.  I feel kind of weird calling that a victory.  Oh well.  The train steams on.

The Three Coolest Things in Fitness and Weight Loss Blogging

So, here’s a list of crap that I think is awesome:

Melinda’s Fitness Blog, because she put a picture of her butt on the masthead.  I just may reciprocate.  Look out world!

It Sux To Be Fat, because of the humorous name, and because she has a post about how to run.  Bwahahaha.  I love it.

Jenful, because she wrote a book called “Half Assed”  about weight loss.  That’s hilarious.

Read them, or be folded into a gigantic egg roll and eaten on my next splurge day!

Day 2: The Hershey’s Kiss Effect

fat guy with little head
This is not me, but appears to be an equally ridiculous looking specimen of Hershey's Kissness.

I’ve noticed that when I start losing weight, it always comes off of my head, neck, shoulders, and upper arms first.  While it’s great to have progress of any sort, and I’m grateful, the short term effect is actually the opposite of making me look skinny.   I call it “The Hershey’s Kiss Effect,” mostly because I’m roughly the same shape as a hershey’s kiss.

Seriously, I look like a mashup of David Spade’s head with Chris Farley’s body.

In other news, I nearly had to drop kick a bitch off the maniac machine next to me yesterday evening at the gym.  Girl came in, eyed the line of forty something empty elliptical machines, and jumped on the one directly next to me.  She was fat, but I played it cool.  I smiled politely and attempted to hide my disgust at her lack of gym etiquette until she started chugging away at 7 rpm on the elliptical and the overwhelming scent of body odor and cheap beer wafted into my personal space.

I guess she thought we were kindred spirits because I’m also fat.  Nah bitch, I bathe regularly.

Anyway, I jumped off my elliptical trainer lickity split and made my way to the opposite end of the line of forty machines, which irritated the crap out of me because now I had to do the math in my head to figure out how many minutes I’ve been chugging away at the slave galley.  Let’s see…I did 13 minutes and 12 seconds on the first machine….and now I’ve done eighteen more minutes….so that makes…….$@!&

I hate math.

Starting Over. Again. WTF. Day 1

You know what I like less than trying to lose weight?  Nothing.  Seriously.  But alas, if I don’t try, I’ll likely die early.  Now, mind you, I’ll leave a very, very good looking corpse, and a legendary personality, and not a few fawning ladyfolk behind.  Nevertheless, I must try again.

So, since we last tried this I’ve actually managed to gain about 20 lbs.  I know, right?  WTF?  I made it all the way up to 350 lbs.  Then, a couple of weeks ago, I started counting calories and exercising like a maniac and I currently sit at 334.2 lbs.  So, for all of my hard work (mostly at buffets and all you can eat barbecue places), I’ve gained a net 5.2 lbs over the last year.

But at least I was losing weight, right?  Until last night that is.  I got all freaky deaky on a place of wings and Potato wedges from your friendly neighborhood sports bar and ate about 3000 calories.  Afterwards there was nothing left but what was on my face: wing sauce and a look of regret.  So, alas, we start over.  Day 1.

On the up side, I bought a pair of new Nike cross training shoes this time, so the weight loss is in the bag.  Guaranteed.

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