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27 February 2015, 12:49

I want to get this done before my big ole workout high goes away.

I’ve decided to take this into a certain direction for a while – a tracking-of-my-betterment blog. I’m doing this exercise/lifestyle change thing, and it’s an up and down process. I see the stupid “community” on my livestrong.com thing where I keep track of what garbage I eat and the torture I go through on the tready. I don’t know who gets fucking motivation from a bunch of spandex wearing soccer moms with upbeat inspirational posts that sound like they got unicorns shooting out of their ass, but I don’t.

I think this will be more realistic in what its like in trying to do a remodel on oneself. Or at least it will be a funny read.

To preface this, I am NOT giving advice on how to get healthier or in better shape. I’m doing a ton of things wrong, and my body and metabolism is different from anybody else’s so what works or doesn’t work for me only applies to me. Spandex unicorn poopers need not follow any of my advice, because for the most part, it is shit. It’s what is working for me. And this is a trial and error thing, with me being a very obstinate mule that probably wouldn’t take good advice, unless it came from a naked Bradley Cooper and even then, it’s a 50-50 shot.

When I tready, I get to the point where I’m dictating and I NEED to put it down, so this is, in part, what I’m saying to myself as I start to go into an endorphic catatonia (also, I’ll be making a lot of words up.) It’s also kind of a FUCK YOU to the happy-happy joy-joy work out witches with the sunshine that beams out of their buttholes. It’s like they are saying if you don’t feel great, get some spiritual ephiphanies, and get all stepford wifey from working out, then you aren’t doing it right or you are failing in some way. SCREW THAT. Working out is hard and it sucks. Motivation is hard to find, especially when no one around you is reflective of YOU. I’m not a skinny work out bunny. Even when I was skinny, I wasn’t active, athletic or aerobic. I actually just have a good genetics that are helping me out right now. Losing weight and becoming fit isn’t really as hard for me as it is for most people, I just never tried it until I was about 40 or so, because being a fatass couch potato was working quite well for me.

So this the BETTERING ME blog for a while, with some other shit thrown in every now and then. If your not into that, you might want to check back in about six months. If I fall off the wagon permanently, that’ll be when I do it.

Here’s our starting line:

46 year old former couch potato who has never EVER been active until about 38. I started eating less and taking 9 flights of stairs up to work. I had a death in the family, and didn’t eat for about three months. I drank the shit out of wine every night for about a month, and after that I had lost about 12 pounds. So I had decided, to try and keep it off.

So I lost 60 lbs. in a year. I didn’t try. It was the stress-I’m-fucked-up diet. Wouldn’t recommend it but in the end, that was the only way I was even going to consider trying to change. I had gotten to the point where I couldn’t even see that it was possible to look different, feel different, be different. It was too overwhelming a task, and being a slug was working fine for me. And it became a reality, while I wasn’t paying attention. I think one of the big secrets is not paying attention. Yeah. That’s really wasn’t going to work for me normally, since I’m OCD and a control freak. It took a GIANT INVOLUNTARY LIFE CHANGE to happen that, as a side effect, made it possible for me to even think that it was possible to be healthier/skinnier. And it wasn’t that I saw that “Well fuck-fire, I could be skinnier…” it was the thought, “Well, hey, I can be a different person…” Wasn’t trying to change the way I look. Was trying to change ME. That wasn’t really mentally healthy of me, but hey, there’s no where in this blog that I write “I am all there, psychologically, speaking.”

My history of exercise/activity began when I was 40. I started walking/running. It was slow in the beginning. Just walking a mile and half to the track, and then walking back. Halfway back was the bar, so I did a fair amount of drinking. Did that for a while, till I was up to about 4-6 miles a day, and on the poor-person diet. I ate rabbit food and pasta about every other day.

I think another 30 lbs. went away after about four months. Then shit got real. It got WAY harder to lose poundage. I tried to maintain the level of activity, but the rapid weight loss turned into a trickle. But as long as I was losing, that was motivation enough.

So, since then I gained a bunch because I started eating everyday again and stopped the colossal boozing – the lifestyle changed to where I had to work, and activity ceased. Stability was up in the air so it was hard to maintain a routine, and I’m very routine oriented. Any changes kinda fuck everything up.

I’m half asian, half hillbilly and don’t have (to my knowledge) any history of heart disease or cancer. I am also a proactive hypochondriac so I think I have every malady under the sun. I currently think I have lupus and diabetes. I might have diabetes. Or kidney failure. I think, though, kidney failure happens rather quickly and wouldn’t last for three or four weeks. I got a rash that I think is flesh eating bacteria and there is something wrong with the toenail on my right hoof. I have extraordinarily good teeth they say, which is genetics. They are thick and numerous, and I’ve not had any real problems with them except for one’s I’ve caused myself (I once fell on my face and sheered a couple of them in half – but even those are doing fine).

And this is very important. I have not consulted a doctor, nor am I under a doctor’s care, so there’s a real possibility I might drop over stone dead from all this. Well. In my head there is. Reality says this might be a LESS imminent result that I imagine.

I’ve been skinny, I’ve been really fat, and right now, I’m in-between (top pics – skinny and fat, bottom big pic – now… sort of). Yeah, I’ll get a recent pic up. That will help in establishing my fattie-cred. In between skinny and really fat is 14 dress sizes. THAT’S A FUCK-LOT. Really. In fact, my friends now, have never seen me rail thin, and my friends back then have never seen me as a blimpo. Even now, I think, “CHRIST, that’s a FUCK-TON. WHAT THE HELL?” And yes, I’m posting unflattering pictures. That’s a part of keeping it fucking real, for shizzle my nizzle, yo U down? (yeah. I won’t do that again. I don’t even know what that means.)

I’ve picked a size in between the two extremes for my goal, of which I’m about 3 sizes from it or about 30-40 lbs, I think. But I don’t JUST want to be skinnier, I want to be healthier and stronger. ESPECIALLY stronger. That appeals to me, to be able to not become winded when doing… anything. And. Well. I want to LOOK better. Vanity is in the mix, there somewhere too.

I eat crap. Just a load of garbage. I eat a TREMENDOUS amount of sugar. But I really don’t want to give up garbage. I just don’t want it to predominate my diet. I don’t have very many vices, so don’t take my garbage food away. But I started eating a truckload more of bad foods, and I think being down here in the south does that to you – sugar and fried foods. That’s why everybody looks like a Macy’s day balloon and die of clogged arteries at 57.

Also, yeah, I’m going to be doing a lot of generalizations. I won’t be doing a lot of “JUST LOVE THE WAY YOU LOOK.” I don’t have a problem with fat people (I am one), and I think it all starts in the attitude, “GOD, I like me, so I’m going to do this because I like me.” You should like yourself enough to be healthy, and be, at least fairly groovy, with your body image. That being said, I have no problem in someone looking at themselves and saying, “Jesus. I need to do something about that. I want to look better.” Wanting something better for yourself is how I see that shit. Disagree if you want. I don’t think you should strive to be a photoshopped barbie doll, but wanting to be thinner, healthier and in better shape I don’t see as bad. Just don’t put a picture of Jennifer Aniston up on your frig as a goal. The beeotch got money, nutritionist, chefs, resources, time to exercise, and probably has the fat sucked out of her thighs at regular intervals. ANYBODY would be thinner having all that. Aim for a being a couple of dress sizes smaller and having enough stamina to walk to the store and back.

Anyway, this isn’t about you. This is about me. Ain’t no inspirational rainbows gonna be coming out of my mouth anytime soon. I ain’t blowing smoke and puppies out of my ass. And if you hear that the workouts are making me feel all cleansed/refreshed and the world seems a brighter place where if we all come together, nothing is impossible, call 911, cause obviously I’m lying in a ditch somewhere, and someone else has commandeered the blog.

Here’s the god’s honest truth. Exercise really sucks donkey balls. It’s never going to be good. It’s never going to be a highlight of my day, or a relaxing bit of me time. It’s horrible and shitty and I try to hang on till I get to the point where the endorphins are kicking in to numb the thinking and muddy the desire to just sit the fuck down.

Junky eating is great. Quitting it is not my goal. Lessening the amount of pure, unadulterated garbage I’m shoveling into my pie hole is my goal. Maybe mix it up with some yogurt and an apple or two.

I’m REAL close to 50, so if this ain’t going to be fun to do (for the most part) screw it. This isn’t something I’m doing to make life better. THIS IS NOW A PART OF MY LIFE. This better be a part of my day that I don’t fucking loathe. Life it too short to make a change that is just going to make you miserable. Right now I got the miserable narrowed down to about an hour a day, followed by numb, catatonic, sweaty happy. I can deal with that. That ain’t bad considering what I’m doing is making it possible to turn a lot more parts of my life into happy-sandwiches. And, what I’m doing is making me better equipped to deal with the inevitable crap-factory of obstacles that life gives you.

Right now. I’m not feeling tired like I was when I woke up. I’m just energetic enough to do fucking dishes. Ain’t that a bitch.


Two Things.

1) Somebody from a Chinese ISP is really, really bored. They have read EVERYTHING. Almost everyday. Kinda creepy. Trying to figure out if you’re a bot or not.

2) After thinking about it, instead of BETTERMENT BLOG type content, this will probably be the THINGS I’M GOING TO SHIT ON WHILE I JOURNEY TO THE BETTERMENT OF ME. I have a feeling that this will be less of a self improvement chronicle and more of Things-I’m-Cranky-About-Today-As-I-Exercise blog. There will be cursing. And crankiness.

Even Later.

I see you people. You binge readers. I don’t see how you can read like 15 columns at a time. I would think that much cranky nonsense would get tiring after the third or fourth column.