Sometimes You Just Get TODD

This post is for Fat People Only. Skinny people please avert your eyes & go away. 
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You just get TODD.



Weighing damned near EVERYthing before you put it in your mouth. (The exceptions being things that have already been weighed for you.)

Writing it all down.

Going onto the blog and typing it up--and totaling up the calories, grams of dietary fiber, grams of fruit and vegetables, and ounces of water for each meal. And then totaling up each days totals for each category.

On the one hand, I think that that process was the key to my losing so much weight in a relatively short period of time.

So I don't want to sound ungrateful to The Process. But after 17 Weeks of that heightened attention and scrutiny, I just got TODD. 

There were a few preliminary cracks . . . a moment or two wherein I just kind of said, Fuck It. But I always got right back on that horse. Until Sunday night, when the fat bottom fell out, and I took Monday off. More or less. I was still weighing most of my food through the late afternoon, so I think I was still pretty much on target with my goals there, but I just didn't feel like writing that shit down. And then when the night came I just kind of said, "I'm Bone Hungry and I'm going to eat some cookies and drink a glass of fuckin' milk. Real milk, not that Almond Milk Bullshit."

And I did. It felt pretty good, too.

But I'm a former smoker. I know how this shit goes. When you fuck up, you convince yourself that The Dream Is Over and I Didn't Really Want That Fuckin' Dream, Anyway & You Can't Go Virgin Again. And so you start smoking. Maybe tentatively at first, but within a few days it's a pack, pack and a half a day. I did that many, many times over my forty years wandering the Desert of Nicotine Addiction. So I knew that I was on some thin ice (ha ha) with respect to my mode of eating. ('Cause it's NOT a diet.)

Thought about it.

Thought about being fat.

Thought about looking at pictures of myself wherein all I could think was, "That's not ME, is it?

But it was me.

Not so long ago.

And it could easily be me again.

Because there are always more reasons to take the path of least resistance than there are reasons to make an effort.

(That's the main reason why there's evil in the world, isn't it?)

So this morning I had a cup of coffee and I skipped breakfast. Drank some water.

Lunch time rolled around and I had another cup of coffee.

Drank some water.

Around 4:00 I started thinking about eating something.

Drank some water instead.

Went out for a bit, came home. Thought about fixing some dinner.

Made some coffee instead. Drank a cup.

This • marks your location.

I've got three hours or so before I go to bed. 

I will probably drink some water.

Might even drink another cup of coffee.

But I think I'm going to have me a No Eating Day today.

It's one way to solve the problem of being frustrated with keeping track of everything, for sure. 

3 cups of coffee: 36 calories.

48 ounces of water.

Thassall.

It's not the way to lose weight, of course. Or at least not a good way. But I think it might help me to keep my head into the game. Because there's one thing I know for sure about this losing fat thing. And I apologize for the insensitivity here, but for context I will just say that (1) at my heaviest, I was 90 pounds over what the internet tells me is my ideal body weight and (obviously) in the OBESE category, (2) two of my children have struggled with being very overweight, and (3) I would never be cruel to someone who was overweight (or __________ ). And if I saw / heard someone being cruel to someone who was overweight (or __________ ), I would get up in their shit immediately. 

Okay?  Okay. 

Here it is:

If you are obese, it's because you are choosing to be obese. There are any number of excuses you can make for yourself, but what it all comes down to is simply this: if you decide that you don't want to be obese anymore and you start paying attention to what you eat and stick with it and maybe exercise a bit along the way, then after awhile you won't be obese anymore. 

There are all kinds of complicating factors. Some people have a much easier time of it than other people. And that's not fair. But that's just tough shit, you know? I don't think it's fair that I'm not rich and good looking and famous and living in a castle and married to Arundhati Roy. 

And I'm still fat, for fuck's sake. Hell, according to the Miller formula (1983), my ideal weight is 158.1 lbs . . . which would mean that I still have to lose 54 pounds. 

(About which I can only say (1) fat fucking chance of that, (2) you have got to be shitting me, and (3) I'll bet you this so-called Miller was a skinny ass motherfucker.)

But after 17 weeks of attention to what I eat, I'm not obese anymore. And my doctor took me off of the diabetes medicine he'd put me on, so I'm not diabetic anymore, either. That's kind of a big deal.

Okay. I'm going to start recording all that eating shit again tomorrow.

Mmm-hmm.