Worse Than a Girl?

Some days ago, Erin quipped, "God, you're worse than a girl!" Normally I would have laughed it off, but this is serious. This is no longer laughing matter. That was her reaction when I caressed my belly like a four month long pregnant woman would with her own bulging belly. Okay, maybe not caressing, but rubbing it like one of those fat Buddha statues you see in Chinese temples. Except I wasn't sporting a million dollar grin on my face.

You see, I usually don't care so much about my weight. But last summer, I got a new job, and I was working very hard to do a good job that I left little room for running and other exercises. In fact, I didn't do as many races as I had hoped for. Worse yet, Thanksgiving and Christmas did little to help my sad situation.

Then eight days ago, a friend and I made the executive decision to turn this around. That Sunday, the two of us would do our final binging on delicious food, and start the Monday afresh. Eight days later, I am just now deciding to get on the wagon.

Don't get me wrong... I had every intention of getting on the wagon a week ago. But this is how kicking into the healthy bit turned out for me. It lasted all of a meal. I had a salad at the cafeteria at work for lunch. Then as the evening loomed closer, another friend and I conspired to get all-you-can-eat sushi buffet. So the three of us went, and let's see... I myself had three appetizers, tons of rolls and sushi pieces, followed by two desserts and half of hers, only because her boyfriend couldn't finish it. The check to the left is a living testament to my loathsome gluttony. Yes, I have fallen off the wagon before I could get my second feet on board! Sadly, I myself ate more than 50 percent of the items on this check. =(

Tuesday was going to be my new beginning. After having a bowl of Cheerio's, I had a renewed sense of purpose with renewed motivation. That lasted all of three hours, sad to report. The client team went to Chevy's Mexican restaurant, and I dumbly went along, despite having brought a lone, tiny sandwich from home. Oh, I'll just eat that for lunch tomorrow instead, I thought. Having not been to Chevy's in a very long time, I was overwhelmed with their new menu with practically nothing unchanged. Lunch special? Well, you decide how horrible I was by looking at that picture to the right.

Then I woke up Wednesday with a new sense of urgency. Stop screwing around; this is for real! And better yet, I was going to do a 3.14 mile fun run with friends after work at Momentum that evening. I felt especially awesome when I ate my tiny sandwich with a cup of fruits and yogurt for lunch. Yeah, the healthy me will start emerging today! Little did I know, I ended up eating eight (!!!) slices of pizza and a huge apple pie that night after the struggling 3.14 mile run. As if the gods weren't punishing me enough, I was hurting all over my knees from the short, brisk run. Apparently my legs are not used to the weight I have let myself go to!

I would have to say that Thursday was arguably a decent day. I had another tiny sandwich for lunch, and also another cup of fruits and yogurt from the cafeteria. I remember thinking that it was a going to be a promising day. Until I got home and sat my ass down to watch Grey's Anatomy. Somehow, I managed to eat three tiny sandwiches which I had prepared for lunch throughout the week some days prior. Crap! It was hopeless. At least it was just some sandwiches, right? I'll just pretend I never spread mayonnaise over them. Out of mind, out of tummy, right?

And just when I thought I couldn't sink any deeper, Friday was a real test of how low I could go. My health compadre and I conspired to have pizza together after work. I made damn sure that we involved our trusty field greens for companionship at dinner time, for as we all know it, you can certainly call it healthy eating if you include some vegetables. Never mind the fact that the salad dressing was somewhat high in delicious calories made with sesame oil. If it was any consolation, the pizza was vegetarian. Drenched in thick, juicy cheese.

But that didn't help us, or at least me, much. Before my friend left, I briefly got onto the weight scale in my bathroom, a device I have simply learned to ignore for almost a year now. I knew all along that the cheap Ikea crap was very generous and forgiving as it had always lied to me by about five pounds like any trusty and reliable girl friend any girl could ever have. But even that wouldn't save my soul from the damnation I had to suffer all week, in that I could not fit into any of my dress slacks, save one with the stretchable waist band from Perry Ellis.

180 pounds?!? Holy shit! In the back of my mind, I knew I really was 185 pounds. That was not comforting at all. It was quite depressing. In less than a year, I have managed to pack on almost 30 pounds. I should not have lied to myself each day while I stood naked in front of the mirror just before jumping into the shower. Oh, the lies I told myself, like I didn't have moobs (man-boobs) and that I was sporting the best single pack (as opposed to a six pack) anyone has ever seen. Reality set in. "This is the wake up call I needed," I remember thinking to myself.

Of course, I hit the snooze button just like I would when I wake up in the morning. Except that this snooze would last through the next day, Saturday. I met up with a few friends for dinner. Invariably, it was sushi. The thought of all that fish and green tea ice cream almost made me gag. For all of a millisecond, of course. I easily brushed aside the 185 pounds of mass that I am carrying, easily forgot how tight my jeans felt that night. I remember telling myself, "This is truly your last hooray, John. Enjoy tonight, and we'll reconvene on Monday."

Well, it is Monday now, a full week after my last attempt at the health kick. So far, I've done well: Cereal and banana for breakfast; home tossed salad and self-cut watermelon and cantaloupes for lunch; and a tiny sandwich with grapes, watermelons and cantaloupes for dinner. Hmm... This looks promising. I can totally see the sporty ol' me in a few months! Sadly, I know it is a little too late to make any major progress by this Sunday when I run the Shamrock Shuffle, but by golly, I'm going to try my darndest! Of course, I'll be wearing some thick overlays to hide the overflowing bulges here and there.

Now, if only I can ignore that voice telling me to eat that leftover pizza as my tummy growls before I go to sleep... Sigh