Breaking through the plateau

Each day I doubt it could get any harder and then, the next day, it is indeed harder.  I broke through the “plateau” and lost 4 pounds this week.  I cut carbs down to around 20g a day and my swimming+running/elliptical regiment has really drained me.  Not eating carbs has had the unintended consequence of limiting my dietary consumption so much that I’m under 800 cals a day.  I’m finding myself confused and disoriented a lot now.  It’s no longer a grumpy-hungry feeling but a sort of brain damaged feeling.  Though, I’m quite certain, no brain damage has occurred (so keep your worries to a minimum.)

Tired of the nagging

Oh for the love of God, quit it with the preaching. Would it make you feel any better if I told you that I already KNEW it was bad to eat 1000 calories a day? I’m not directing this at anyone in particular because that would be a waste of time. Instead, I’m directing it at EVERYONE because everyone has been nagging me to eat. Azif I didn’t know I was supposed to do that. So, I’m going to get a talkin’ to by my dad about my diet now, is what I hear… wonder how he got wind of my ultra-low calorie diet… hmmm…

No matter. There’s a part of me that knows you people do it because you worry about me and that’s really sweet. But why don’t you worry about my publication number sor the mole on my neck or the horrible caber toss I call a golf swing? Those are all very important. Let’s be long term goal oriented, people. This all ends April 1st. Unless I die earlier. Then it will end that day.

Anyway, you nagging nannies, I’ve got BIG news for you. I’ve stepped up the diet. My intention is to either win or die. I’ve reduced my caloric intake to around 800 calories per day and I’ve started swimming and running every day. About a mile in the pool and two on the elliptical. (lucky you that my skin is too dry to swim tomorrow. This weather is totally killing.) I’ve cut my carbs down to less than 20g a day. Which means, in all, I’m starving myself. HAH! So put that in your mouth and smoke it. And how do I deal with the jitters, panic attacks and general hate that accompanies poor nutrition? DRUGS! I drink coffee to stay awake so I don’t kill myself in the lab.

Now you’re saying ‘oh damn… the boys lost it. Drugs, diets and insanity. He’s a rock star.’ Well, maybe. Maybe I have lost it. But the fat jokes, the cute little nicknames, the comments about my boobies and loosing this competition are all decisive motivating factors (as well as the $1000 for winning.) Victory or death. You can tell me to eat all you want but I’ll either be 183 pounds on April 1st or in the hospital.

You see why I don’t play competitive sports?

The pain of the diet mounts

I’m sick of this diet. It’s driving me insane. I hate working out at the gym. At this point, I hate everything - except my wife, I guess - whom I’m slightly mean to now even though I don’t mean it. I even punted Zhara for shitting on the floor. What kind of man kicks his dog? A bad man.

There is a word which summarized my feelings. Rage. Like, horrible rage. Not the kill-a-man sort of rage, but the beat-the-crap-out-of-a-chair kind.

I also ate a pound of Tofu last night in an effort to eat something with no calories. You know where most of the energy goes after you eat a pound of tofu? Craping that pound of tofu out again. My gut has given me nothing but problems. Come to think of it, I hate my digestive system. It constantly hurts. I can’t catch a break from it. Regardless of what I eat, it becomes screwed up. It always has. If I eat and walk around, it gets hurt. If I eat too much, it gets hurt. If I eat the wrong thing (of which there are many) it gets hurt. Horrible.

And my shit has been exceptionally odd smelling. Like sulfur or decomposing grass clippings. I’m not eating grass. WTF.

I’m also considering taking up smoking again. I loved smoking. It was so cool. They even have my favorite brand of smokes within walking distance from my apartment: Kools. How do you know when your cigs are awesome? They tell you so, right on the package. I wish everything were like that. But it isn’t. My intestines asks if its fat and doesn’t care how you answer, it will still get pissy and emotional. And bloated and cramped.

And that’s what’s on the top of my head right now. At 10:42, at school, wishing I were dead.

I hate you, tofu.

Plateau

This post was supposed to celebrate the loss of my 20th pound, but it isn’t. Instead it’s about not losing my 20th pound. It was supposed to be psychologically significant because this is the halfway point of my weight loss.

Allow me to essplain:

I’m in a competition, you see, with 7 other people who all chipped in $50 to loose weight. Whoever loses the most weight as per a percentage of weight loss wins $200 (second and third also get money back.) I started out with a BMI that stated I was obese - I weighed about 219 pounds. My objective, in addition to win the contest, is to also end with a BMI that is “normal” or around 183 pounds. That means that by April 1st I need to lose 36 pounds, collect $200 and have completed a total loss of 16.4% of my body weight. I have 52 days left to loose 13 pounds. In the last 46 days I’ve lost 19. Good news, right?
WRONG.  HORRIBLE NEWS.

That image there tells you the horrible story of my weight loss.  As you can see, I must be below the red line AT ALL TIMES to be victorious - but I’m approaching it slowly every day because I’m losing weight slower and slower.  I’ve upped my cardio and maintained my calories but the line…. it’s just… GOING TO KILL ME.

nevermind that.  I’ll be victorious.  Rest assured.  I’d rather be dead than lose.

Angery

SLAM. Down another 3 pounds. It may be 2.5 pounds, but the doctor’s-office-like scale in the locker room wasn’t being too clear. I’ll take the 3, thanks. That means I’m down 18 pounds in 4 weeks and 5 days. Not bad, not bad.

Guess what else. I’m pissed off a lot. I dunno why. It’s driving me insane. The lack of focus is hard. Losing this much weight is difficult. Losing it this fast is… difficulter… uh.

Progress…

Lost 15 pounds since the 4th of January. Sadly, I’ve noted the weight loss has become less and less drastic each time I weigh myself. First it was 9 pounds, then it was 4 and this week it was a mere 2 pounds - a rather humdrum number, all things considered.

But, on the flip side, what is 15 pounds? Well… that’s 150% of the body weight of Zara, which is interesting because the idea of having lost an equivalent volume of fat compared to my dog is revolting. It’s also clearly another pant size. None of the pants I got for Christmas fit now. They all hang off me. It’s recognition from people you see daily. Not like, once in a while, but someone who sees you every day and is like ‘damn. you’re loosing weight.’ These are the tangible signs of victory. But the metrics are howling defeat. TWO POUNDS! That’s almost a healthy weight loss.

My scientific background and anal personality combined to create a very detailed log of food consumption and corresponding caloric intake.