Monday 1539: A Story Right Out of the Movies

I posted my usual Friday weigh-in results last Friday instead of holding them for a Monday blog, so hopefully you're up to speed on the fact that I was on the brink of crossing into a major milestone for me.  I generally try to only post those weight updates once a week to hide my neurosis and the fact that I jump on the scale daily, just to keep a tab on things.  Anyway, this past weekend was the first one EVER where I didn't have something going on that involved copious amounts of food and drink or where I didn't feel bad for myself and order a large pizza and a pint of Ben and Jerry's.  My successes last week put a little pep in my dieting step, so I kicked it into high gear.  Anyway, I hopped on the scale yesterday morning and....(drum roll please).....(dudududududududu):

I finally weigh less than what is posted on my driver's license!  That was a pretty tremendous way to start a Monday, so that pushed me to put together another five strong days.

I had someone express concern the other day that I perhaps wasn't doing this in a healthy way or that I was in some way starving myself.  Nothing can be further from the truth.  I've only been averaging about 2 lbs per week, which isn't out of control crazy.  According to a nifty calorie calculator that I've used in the past, I would have to eat 2,800 calories a day with almost no activity to maintain a weight of 261 lbs.  Generally speaking, an average of 500 calories a day cut equals a 1 pound weight loss.  I've been trying to keep my daily caloric intake in between 1,500-2,000 calories, depending on what I'm doing.  I've also increased my physical activity from absolute zero to at least trying to play basketball for an hour two times a week.  This weekend I did anything but starve myself.  I just actually took the time to make the right decision instead of going into fat person auto-pilot.  Healthy food preparation doesn't take any longer than unhealthy food preparation.  You just have to make that decision to grab the veggies out of the fridge instead of the frozen pizza out of the freezer.  Hell, I even went to the movies and took the time to quick look at the back of all of the candy because I can't go to a movie without a treat.  I ended up settling on Twizzlers and a Coke Zero.

Speaking of movies, I am a movie theater snob, and the only time I'll ever really enjoy myself is when I'm the only person in the theater.  I've known this for awhile, but this weekend just hammered it home.  I used to be really self-conscious about being a lone ranger in a theater, assuming that having someone next to you to share in the experience somehow enhanced it.  After years of travelling by myself on the road, I realized just how wrong I was and how great it could be to have it all for me.  I decided to go to Thor because I've yet to meet a super hero movie that I didn't like.  Even the really bad ones get me excited.  Marvel has a nifty trick of throwing extra scenes after the credits that tease The Avengers movie that comes out next summer and ties all the movies together.  I decided that instead of waiting through ten minutes of credits, I would get there early enough to watch the clip at the tail end of the show before mine.  I was willing to sacrifice the half hour between shows to save me ten minutes at the end of mine.  I absolutely hate getting to movies late because I'm kind of particular about where I sit.  I'm an upper-middle, middle kind of guy.  I like to go about 64% up towards the top, and I absolutely need to sit in the middle of the row.  I don't pee, I don't get up for snacks, so the middle is never a problem.  Anyway, the crowd from the previous show cleared out, and I took my place in the best seat in the house.  This was a little after 6, and my show started at 6:30.  6:15 comes, and I'm the only person in the theater.  Score!  I was pretty sure this was going to be the greatest night of my life, but as I was high-fiving myself an obese older couple came into the theater.  Mind you, the ENTIRE THEATER WAS EMPTY except for me.  These folks could have sat absolutely anywhere.  Even if they liked my seat, they could have sat just to the right or left of me in front or behind me and I wouldn't have had a problem.  Nope, no such luck.  They headed up the stairs and sat directly in front of me, with the gentleman's reclining seat coming directly back into crossed legs.  I was a little upset, but whatever.  I brought up their obesity not because I have a thing against fat people.  No, I brought it up because of course they took advantage of the all you can eat popcorn and all you can drink pop that comes with the large sizes.  Throughout the duration of the movie, they refilled four freaking times!  And there's no quiet way to eat and share popcorn, so I had to suffer through chewing, bag cracklings, and then the guy standing up over and over and over throughout the movie.  Breathe deep, Jeff, breathe deep.  This alone was enough to perturb me, but of course they weren't the only ones that ruined my night.  At 6:20, a little boy's birthday party decided to join the festivities.  I already don't think anyone under the age of 19 should be allowed into any movie ever, so I could feel myself tensing up.  They came in and the dad surveyed the enormous open theater that currently had two popcorn balls sitting in front of a clearly agitated 29-year old.  Let's see...300 empty seats...ummm...oh, I know!  C'mon, gang, let's fill the entire row directly behind the sociopath!  These wonderful little darlings spent the entire movie running up and down the row to talk to each other, running up and down the stairs to pee and get more sugar, and bumping into my seat every chance they got.  Serenity now!

Okay, the credits were starting, I could do this.  I love the previews, sometimes as much as the movies.  In a world filled with shorter and shorter attention spans, I fully expect that in my lifetime there will be a full-length feature of just 3-minute clips from different superhero stories.  I'll be in heaven.  I was trying to get my head in the zone to ignore the munching in front of me and the playground behind me when I saw an older lady walk into the theater.  I knew exactly where she was headed before she even started up the stairs.  She came directly to my row and walked all the way down it towards me.  She left exactly one seat between us.  I couldn't wait for her to turn to me every five minutes to ask me what was going on, who the guy on the screen with that hammer thingy was, and whether or not I wanted a hard candy out of her purse.  Luckily for me, she wouldn't have to rely on my knowledge of all things superhero because three more people came into the theater just as the commercials for Coke were ending and the previews were beginning.  Clearly my row was now a little lopsided with the little old lady sitting next to me, so they decided to balance it out by coming and sitting exactly one seat away from me on my right.  Folks, if I'm lying, I'm dying.  They were younger, two girls and a guy.  The gentleman took it upon himself to be Wikipedia for the entire crowd and narrate every single preview.  "See that?  Those are the first X-Men, and that one guy is supposed to be Cyclops's brother!"  I was now trapped on every side in a weird cage consisting of four worst-possible-movie-goer-stereotypes.  We were only short the black couple that kept yelling at Thor to not go into the dark room from having the worst possible movie experience possible.

I ended up really enjoying Thor.  Let me recap the plot for you.  There's this guy named Thor who is from another world where he is a prince.  He messes up and gets banished to Earth where a fat guy stands up and goes to get more popcorn every thirty minutes.  He eventually meets Natalie Portman who helps him run up and down the stairs and plays tag with him in the front of the theater because the dad has evidently forgotten that we live in a civilized society where that type of behavior is really unacceptable in a public place where people shelled out $10 for a ticket and $10 for flipping licorice and a Coke.  Eventually his brother, Loki, stands up to yell at her elderly friend Mildred (I assume that was her name) who was about 15 minutes late getting to the movie and couldn't find her friend in a theater with 15 people in it, even though we were all sitting directly next to each other.  After Mildred added to the body count in our row, Loki recapped the first 15 minutes of the storyline and discussed whether or not it had started raining yet.  It was definitely a big summer blockbuster that featured a lot of cool special effects, like when the girl sitting next to me checked her cell phone every two minutes which added a much needed obnoxious light into my sight line.  Finally, everything worked out in the end after an epic battle, which I never would have figured out on my own had the dude sitting next to cell phone girl hadn't verbalized the name of every single minor character, weapon, and planet in the movie, and how true or untrue it was to the original source material in the comics, including every single series of reboots throughout the last 40 years.  As I got up to leave the theater when the credits started to roll, the know-it-all next to me took it upon himself to loudly inform his two female friends, "Wow, these guys must not know much about superhero movies!  Everyone knows there's a secret clip at the end of the credits."

When I walked out of the theater, it was of course pouring rain.  I came to the movies for Thor, but I felt like I was leaving with The Incredible Hulk.  I considered sneaking into another theater in hopes of having a better movie experience, but I decided I'd better just call it a night.  After standing out under the canopy for a couple of minutes and determining there was absolutely no way the rain was going to lighten up or that I could avoid getting wet, I made a mad dash for my car.  It was raining hard enough that had I been a turkey, I would have drowned.  About half-way there it started to hail.  I was 99% sure that the kook who predicted The Rapture was on to something.  Still, I kept my composure and avoided the temptation to hit McDonald's on the way home to ease my nerves.  And I survived.  Each day is a battle, but I'm going on a two week streak of survival and success.  Here's to hoping that this movie has a happy ending.

By Odin's beard,

Jeffrey

It's Friday, Friday, Gotta Get Down on Friday!

Before we get too far into this post, let's all take a minute for a dance party at our desks!



That's right, folks!  Yesterday was Thursday, tomorrow is Saturday, which means today is Friday!  And thanks to my fantastic employer, Fridays in the summer mean that I'm a free man at 11:30.  That makes me want to keep the dance party going!



For those from my Hartford crew, I hope this song will always remind you of Sherrie Kapperman in the top row of the old high school gym screaming out "Whoomp!  There it is!" every time someone made a basket.  Good times.

I'm in a decidedly better mood today, partly because of the short Friday, partly because I'm listening to Tag Team, partly because my head cold has moved into my chest, and mostly because I jumped on the scale this morning.  Ladies and gentlemen, I present:

Suck it, Trebek!  I'm not sure how it happened, but you can bet your sweet bippy that I am pretty excited that  I managed to have a huge swing from Monday to today.  I'm even more excited because this tells me that even though I can and will screw up, I'm still dedicated enough to rebound, even when I don't think I am.  Making the right decision is starting to become the easier path.  I want the rice and veggies, and I get angry when I don't get to play basketball.  I binged last week because I was bored and I was tired, but the big thing that I noticed was that it didn't give me the same sense of full that I used to get when I pulled that crap.  This past weekend when I did it, I felt physically full (almost sick), whereas in the past I used to get some kind of spiritual pick up from it.  Eating $10 worth of Taco Bell used to give me a runner's high and filled an emotional void.  This no longer seems to be the case.  I guess it is time to move on to heroin...

Seriously, though, seeing a new "middle" number is something that is super motivating, and while I should have been in the 250's this Friday, my recovery from a slip up lets me know that next week will finally be the week.  I have no plans for the weekend besides resting up and trying to shake this pneumonia, so I have no excuses.  Getting under 260 would be a significant milestone because it would mean that for the second time since 2005 I wouldn't be lying on my driver's license.  I don't know why 260 has always been the number I used, but you better believe that the minute I hit 259 I'm jumping in my car and getting a speeding ticket just so I can point out that my weight listed is a little high.  I'm also going to go to every doctor I've seen in the past year just to make sure they get my charts updated.  Seriously, is there anything more annoying than the condescending way that they weigh you?  As soon as you step off the scale, you know they are thinking, "We probably don't need the doctor to diagnose this one..."  That's probably why every single time I've gone to the doctor they have told me that it is just heartburn and that I should take some Prevacid.  Bronchitis?  Prevacid.  Chronic cough?  Prevacid.  Missing limb?  Just crush up a little Prevacid and rub it on the nub.

Final thought for the day:  If tomorrow really is the Rapture, as is being predicted, it was nice knowing you.  I have a feeling I won't be on the same eternal bus as you and Kirk Cameron.  The following thought popped in my head this morning:  "If tomorrow the world ends, I'm going to be pretty pissed off that I ate salads and black bean burgers all week. Soooooo, I should probably stop by Papa Murphy's so that I can spend eternity with something delicious in my belly."  But then the following song popped on my iPod:



I'm torn between the line "As soon as you're born you start dying, so you might as well have a good time" and the title of the song, "Sheep go to Heaven, Goats go to Hell".  I suppose I should probably hedge my bets, at least until Saturday is over, and continue to eat like a sheep.  Maybe I'll be able to pull the wool over Someone's eyes.

I'm Baaaaaaah-ck (that's a sheep noise AND a reference to the Terminator becoming the Sperminator),

Jeff

Monday 1538: Down With the Sickness

I wish I had good news to post today about my progress, but unfortunately this has been a terrible, horrible, very bad, no good week.  For starters, I forgot to bring my scale with me last weekend to my parents' house, so I didn't have an accurate reading to post on Monday to show off my results.  I barely remember what I did yesterday, but from what I do recall from last week, it wasn't good.  I was pretty energized going into the week, but as the stress of getting stuff ready for my trip and a surprise birthday party on Saturday started to mount, I fell back into old habits.  I very well may have eaten out every single day.  Anyway, I hopped on my mom's scale last Friday and it showed a 4 lb. weight gain, which of course woke me up and drove me to push through the weekend to try to get this back on track.

Just kidding!  Instead, it stressed me out some more, and I ended up eating a footlong sub for lunch, the better part of a family sized pizza for dinner (along with S'mores dessert pizza, which is a product that some evil genius invented to tempt fat people), and about three pounds of goulash for lunch on Saturday.  I tried really hard to limit myself at the party, knowing that I would be getting more than my fair share of calories through liquids.  However, round about my 18th beer, I decided I better sample the pork sandwiches and birthday cake as a form of late night quality control.  After all, I would have hated for someone to get a bad pork sandwich at 3 am.  The party raged on into the wee hours of the morning, and after taking more of a nap than a night's sleep, I woke up and made breakfast pizza for my family and some friends that were staying.  

When I got back in my car to make the 7+ hour trip back to Minneapolis, I was tired and hung over.  I made it about 45 minutes down the road when I convinced myself that the only way I could keep myself awake was to stop at Dairy Queen and order a 1/2 Double Cheeseburger Combo with fries, a Coke, and a medium Blizzard, just in case.  At this point I went from having any common sense and will power to just trying to exist and get my butt back to Minnesota.   I had lost the power to fight myself.  I ended up stopping two or three more times before I got home for more energy drinks (lots of sugar and calories) and snacks (ditto).  I was rewarded for my weakness when I stepped on the scale Monday morning and saw 272, almost exactly where I was a month ago.  To top it all off, Spring has finally sprung, so while I found it hard to breathe because of my poor decisions, I also had to deal with some pretty sever allergies kicking in.

272 was not and is not acceptable under any conditions, so I decided to get mad.  I was ready to get back out on the basketball court after the previous week provided limited opportunities to play with graduation hogging the gym.  We ended up having enough guys to go 5-on-5, which meant we were going full court, something I had yet to do.  I was excited for the challenge and was looking forward to the workout.  Unfortunately, it only took about half a game of pounding my body up and down the floor in new shoes before my legs gave out.  My shins started hurting so bad that I could barely walk.  I tried toughing it out, but just like my 5k (which coincidentally took place exactly one year to the day prior), my shins hurt to the point where I lost feeling in my feet.  I'm not sure if you've ever tried to run when your feet are asleep, but it isn't an easy thing to do.  I gutted out two games, but then subbed myself out and headed for the showers.  My legs hurt so bad that I could barely change shoes.  I ended up sitting in my cubicle with bags of ice on both shins, hoping the pain would go away.  I've mentioned this before, but there is nothing more frustrating than when your body doesn't cooperate with the drives and wants of your mind.  This was my Monday.

Monday night, my allergies/cold got progressively worse.  I started thinking that at least 5 lbs of the 272 could be attributed to snot. I ended up sleeping on my couch that night because I kept rolling on my back in bed and then choking and gagging.  I maybe got three hours of sleep, which paired with my two hours from two nights before left me feeling like death warmed over.  I decided to take a sick day on Tuesday to try to get my body back together.  I headed to the grocery store to restock on fruits, veggies, and decongestants.  I even decided to splurge and try some black bean veggie burgers, which turned out to be okay.  Not great, not awful, but when you hide it between a 100 calorie thin bun and a piece of pepper jack with some salsa sprinkled over it, it went down.  Anyway, I spent most of Tuesday pounding fluids and hoping the Claritin would kick in.  No such luck.  The past two days I've felt almost as bad, if not maybe a little worse than I did Tuesday.  I've been at work, but mostly just to spread my germs to as many people as humanly possible because I'm a sharer.  I'm hoping that it is just a sleep issue and that a down weekend will help me get back up for next week.  

Anyway, I'll hop on my scale tomorrow and see what the damage is.  I've stayed off the scale all week for fear that my bad behavior will show results that will just make me feel worse than I already do.  Two straight weeks of gains would mean that I have some heavy lifting to do in the next two weeks to keep on my path to reach my 30 lb target by October.  If I was a contestant on Biggest Loser, I feel like they'd be cutting to a commercial right before my weight was revealed and show Jillian and Bob gasping.  That's how up in the air this week could be.

Anyway, since my Monday post became a Thursday post, I promise to not keep you in the dark with the results.  I'll throw them up tomorrow morning.  Also, it isn't too late to pledge some per pound money to help out the American Heart Association!  We've had some big dollars rolling in, but I'm still going to be well short of my goal.  Plus, at the rate I'm going, I'm probably going to end up having to pay out money.  Just think...if you pledged $2 a pound and I lost 30, you'd be on the hook to a great organization for $60.  If you pledged $2 and I GAINED 30 lbs, you'd pocket a quick $60!  Folks, those are my kind of odds. 

Trying to live Claritin Clear,

Jeff

Don't Just Sit There!

This post is a blatant borrow from another website (which gives full permission to use the following infographic) that was shared by my friend Cody on Facebook. I've been thinking about the subject of sitting a lot lately as I realized I'm in a seated position almost all day, so these stats are particularly pertinent to me.  I try to remember to get up once an hour and walk around a little, but I'm not always the best at getting off of my butt.  As I've started increasing my physical activity levels, I notice that my body actually feels great when we finish up playing, but that after sitting for a couple of hours afterwards, I can barely get out of my chair because my lower back and knees don't seem to want to cooperate.  Anyway, this is my cop-out blog post for today because I found these stats to be absolutely terrifying and realize that the way I go about my job may be inadvertently log-jamming my weight loss success and most likely shaving years off of my life.   I guess I need to not just sit here and should probably look into busting a move.  Enjoy!


Via: Medical Billing And Coding


Sitting on the dock of the dead,

Jeff

Monday 1537: Seinfeldian Wisdom

I have been a huge Seinfeld fan for as long as I can remember.  I used to make my family watch it live every Thursday night, and once it hit syndication, I made them sit through two hours of it a day.  There was something in the wit and wisdom of each show that spoke to me more than any other TV show could (I'm not claiming Seinfeld for my own since clearly almost everyone else in America felt the same way).  I always had a desire to be one of the gang, and I felt like my dry humor and general distaste for everything would have made me a great fifth member in that booth at Monk's.  I own every season of Seinfeld on DVD, as well as Curb Your Enthusiasm, which was created by Seinfeld's co-creator and inspiration for George, Larry David.  It is a lot like Seinfeld only if Seinfeld was on HBO and had cussing (which it is and does).  I've been lucky enough to see Jerry live in Sioux Falls twice, and I'm proud to say that one of those two times the tickets were freebies because of my knowledge of all things Seinfeld (if I remember right, I knew Golden Boy was his favorite shirt, Monk's was the name of the coffee shop, Tweety Bird was the Pez dispenser that Jerry used to make Elaine laugh, Uma Thurman's phone number was on the back of the dry cleaning receipt that got ruined when the moisturizer leaked all over the suit Kramer sold Bania, and that Kramer's first name was Cosmo).  So, I decided to turn my love of Seinfeld and Seinfeld quotes into my blog post for the week.  
(Disclaimer: It was after I typed this whole post that I remembered that one of my favorite sports bloggers, Bill Simmons, had done something similar to this last week with The Wire.  I've been reading Simmons for a long, long time, and his writing clearly influences the way that I write, so I just wanted to give him some credit although I didn't consciously mean to rip off his idea.  That is all.) 
So, without further ado:
Frank Costanza: I have been performing feats of strength all morning. 
No, seriously!  I've officially gotten over my hatred for working out, and I've decided to step it up a notch. I finally am starting to get my legs and lungs back because I'm playing basketball a couple of times a week. This weekend I walked to the store to get some groceries and Redbox movies (yeah, the Playstation Network is still down, so I can't use Netflix. This is like week three, and I'm losing patience and faith in Sony).  I played Ultimate Frisbee with our Americorps folks and the Math tutors (even though I'd already played basketball that morning and my legs were dead).  I'm not exercising five days a week, but I am enjoying the exercise that I am doing.  That is so much more crucial to this being a long term success than if I had just started forcing myself on a treadmill.  That's the reason that racquetball worked and the 5k didn't when I was in Sheldon.  I'm starting to notice the aches and pains lessening, and I really do have more energy throughout the day.  This has to be a good thing.
George: What day is today?....Aw. ..Tuesday! Damn it. I shouldn't have worked out today. Mr Wilhem has called a big meeting and now I'm gonna be sweating through the whole thing.
Jerry: Why? You took a shower.
George: Aahhrgh...it wouldn't take! Ten minutes from now, I'll be sweating all over again. I can feel it. I'm a human heat pump!
Kramer: You should take cold showers.
George: Cold showers? They're for psychotics.
Kramer: Well I take 'em! They give me a Whooooosh!
Man, do I feel George's pain here.  I don't remember having such issues with this before, but I usually don't completely dry off until I get in my car to go home at the end of the day.  I've got a small desktop fan that I keep blowing on my face which seems to be a decent Band-Aid for the problem, but if I have to get up and walk around, BAM!, I'm soaked again.  I'm not all stinky and gross (at least I don't think I am), but still, not cool.  These showers never take!  
Kramer: Boy, these pretzels are makin' me thirsty. 
Man, everything is making me thirsty.  I feel like I'm never not thirsty.  It probably has something to do with the constant sweating all day.  I really, really have to watch this because, as I said in a previous post, I am super sensitive to hydration issues.  I've already noticed that I'm getting the jimmy legs at night.  I always feel like I'm one funny turn from having my entire body cramp up on me.  As I type, my thighs are quivering.  In fact, the other night I woke up with one of the worst, weirdest cramps I've ever had in my life.  It was like it was in the tendon that ran from my toe all the way up my shin.  I'm not even sure if I have a tendon there, but whatever it was, it was pulling.  My stupid toe was sticking straight up, which is really something since it is on my foot where the toes don't bend.  While that leg was busy trying to pop my toe off, my other calf decided it needed to get in on the action.  I ended up having to sleep in my recliner for the rest of the night because I didn't trust my legs to stay put in bed.  I also get really, really tired and worn out when I start to get dehydrated, and I've noticed certain days where I let that get a little out of hand.
George: I'm 33 years old; I haven't outgrown the problems of puberty, I'm already facing the problems of old age. I completely skipped healthy adulthood. I went from having orgasms immediately, to taking forever. You could do your taxes in the time it takes me to have an orgasm. I never had a normal... medium orgasm. 
Jerry: I never had a really good pickle. 
This is one of my all-time favorite Seinfeld exchanges.  I sympathize with the whole still feeling like I'm in puberty while feeling the effects of old age creeping in.  Maybe not in the orgasm thing (No, no, no!  I'm solid in that department.  Fit as a fiddle.  Healthy as a horse...okay, maybe a Shetland pony, but still, solid (I'm immediately embarrassed about that entire last aside knowing that both my mother and grandmother read this, but it came out and I can't take it back because I'm too lazy to delete it)), but definitely in other ways.  For instance, if I don't wash my face three times a day, I look like I should be standing over the fryer at McDonald's.  From time to time, my voice still breaks.  On the flip side, my hip always wants to go out of place.  I get heartburn if I eat anything spicier than chicken broth.  It takes me about five days to get over a night  at the bar.  My hair, including my beautiful red beard, is starting to become bright white, which is particularly a problem because I've got short, poofy hair, so the grays stick straight out because they are hard and wirey.  I know a lot of the old age symptoms are because of the way I lived my 20's, so I'm hoping I can get some of them reversed so that I can at least have a couple of years where my body and I can get along.
Jerry: I learned something. Letting my emotions out was the best thing that's ever happened to me. Sure, I'm not funny anymore. There's more to life than making shallow, fairly obvious observations. 
I'm happy to report that whatever emotional roller coaster I needed to go on to be well, I've officially ridden it and have come out the other side smiling.  I want to thank everyone again for all of their love and support over the past couple of months.  I know I don't always deal with things the way that everyone else would like to see me deal with them, but some magic combination of emotional breakdowns, isolation, sloppy bar time, deep conversations, and great advice has allowed my heart to heal 1000 times better than my nose did.  Oh yeah, I have an enormous scar on my nose which was NOT what the doctor promised me on that blood-soaked night.  So, yeah, thanks again to my friends, thanks for nothing to the medical profession.

George: Why did it all turn out like this for me? I had so much promise. I was personable, I was bright. Oh, maybe not academically speaking, but ... I was perceptive. I always know when someone's uncomfortable at a party. It became very clear to me sitting out there today, that every decision I've ever made, in my entire life, has been wrong. My life is the opposite of everything I want it to be. Every instinct I have, in every aspect of life, be it something to wear, something to eat ... It's all been wrong. 

Jerry: If every instinct you have is wrong, then the opposite would have to be right.

George: Yes, I will do the opposite. I used to sit here and do nothing, and regret it for the rest of the day, so now I will do the opposite, and I will do something!

Elaine: Well, there's no telling what can happen from this.

I think that George's theory of doing the opposite was one of the biggest contributing factors to my personal growth in the past couple of months.  Friends have heard me say that this is new Jeff who does the complete opposite of what Jeff from 10 years ago would have done.  Instead of tuna on toast, I'm ordering chicken salad on rye, untoasted, with a side of potato salad and a cup of tea!  It is as much a "Yes Man" theory as anything else.  When an opportunity presents itself, I don't let myself say no anymore.  Did I want to play basketball?  No, but I did and now it is one of the highlights of my day.  Did I want to get back into the dating world?  I was a little scared, but I took the first step and haven't regretted a single minute of it.  Do I want to hang out after work?  I'm a hermit at heart, but I did it and I've gained such fantastic new friends from the process.  I'm out there, everybody, and I'm loving every minute of it!
Jerry: Are you sure you want to get married? I mean, it's a big change of life.
Elaine: Jerry, it's 3 a.m. and I'm at a cock fight. What am I clinging to?
Okay, so maybe I'm not ready to get married right this very second, but in no way have I been burned by the process.  If there's one thing I've learned from all of this, it's that the best version of Jeff is the version that is giving love and being loved.  As much as I enjoy sitting on my couch in my underwear watching hours of Seinfeld reruns and playing video games or going to a dirty bar and dirty dancing on some dirty girl, it turns out I'm much happier when I'm with someone sharing my smarmy comments about a movie or dirty dancing with them.  Although I've dated, I've never really had to "date", if that makes sense.  I'm kind of looking forward to it.
George: Jerry, just remember, it's not a lie if you believe it. 
Amazingly enough, this is probably the philosophy I most live by.  That probably disgusts most of you, but eh, what am I going to do?  This general principle is the one that by far makes me the most like George than any of the other characters because I believe that in order to be the best me, it takes a little fibbing.  For instance, when I started this project, did I really think I could make it six months and be successful?  Of course not!  What past proof did I have that I was capable of making this thing work?  I was (and at times still am) scared shitless about it.  To compensate, I'm overly confident on this blog about my belief in my future success, and after I type it enough, I start to believe it.  There is a level of confidence and self-assurance that I have to give to myself.  Look at George...he's a short, balding, stocky man who bounces from job to job and is a fairly miserable human being.  Somehow, he still is one of the most arrogant, self-assured men in the world who constantly gets the girl.  Now look at me...I'm the same guy, only with hair!  I really have no reason to be as cocky as I am.  Still, no matter how awful the hand I'm dealt or how short my comings might be, I am the best because I believe I'm the best thanks to years of studying George Costanza.  
Jerry: Boy, you sure do have a lot of friends, how come I never see any of these people? 
Kramer: They want to know how come they never see you. 
I talk about all of these great friends of mine, but I NEED to start seeing you people more often.  The last time I was in Sioux Falls, other than a pit stop in February, was back in November.  The last time I saw my Sheldon friends, other than a tearful pit stop back in February, was last June.  The last time I saw some of my Minnesota friends was in January.  Hell, I've got some of my best friends who I haven't seen in years.  My social calendar will be filled this summer.
Jerry: Golden Boy is always the first shirt I wear out of the laundry, here touch Golden Boy! But see, look at the collar, see it's fraying. Golden Boy is slowly dying. Each wash is brings him one step closer, that's what makes the T-shirt such a tragic figure.

Elaine: Why don't you just let Golden Boy soak in the sink with some Woolight?

Jerry: No!!! The reason he's iron man is because he goes out there and plays every game. Wash!!! Spin!!! Rinse!!! Spin!!! You take that away from him, you break his spirit!

I am a creature of habit when it comes to clothes.  For as many clothes as I own, I often end up wearing the exact same outfits over and over again.  I've owned the same pair of shoes since I started my professional career.  Well, not the same pair, but the same exact make and model.  When I find something that I like that I think makes me look good, I usually ride it into the ground.  I'm currently dealing with the fact that some of my favorites need to be laid to rest.  My parents were nice enough to buy me a new pair of brown loafers since the bottoms of my other ones had completely worn through.  My favorite Gap khakis have a weird bright spot on them that I think probably came from bleach being left in the washer from the person before me (stupid communal laundry).  My favorite shirt that makes me look skinny and sexy suffered from a drunken fight with some Taco Bell that resulted in a stain that I can't seem to get out.  My favorite cardigan is starting to fall apart at the seams because I wear it so much.  And the kicker is that because I'm losing weight, I'm starting to notice that nothing fits very well.  I've sworn I wouldn't go buy a pair of shorts until I was at least back in the 30's for pants.  When I went out to the store yesterday to buy a strap for my glasses for when we play basketball (easy ladies, try not to get too excited), I officially wore a pair of 38 jeans.  I'm starting to get hot in my apartment wearing pants all the time, so it might be time for a shopping spree.  Speaking of losing weight...

Gary Fogel: Good for you, Jack! 

In case you were wondering who the great Gary Fogel is, I refer you to this clip:

I'm pretty proud of myself because the downward trend continues on.  I ate out almost every single day last week, but because I added a couple of days of basketball to the rotation, I'm proud to present:

That makes a total loss of 10.6 lbs., over a third of my overall goal of 30 lbs. in just the first month.  I know the first month is always the easiest, but I'm encouraged by my ability to take baby steps that have shown consistent results.  This past weekend was one of the first ones since The Challenge began where I stayed home and didn't just destroy everything I'd done up until this point.  I did go a little crazier than I had hoped on Friday after I weighed in, but I'm going to try to string together six solid days of effort that involve both exercise and no eating out.  I'm headed to Blunt next weekend, and I would love to be able to give my mom the Mother's Day/birthday gift of having another good week.  I'm hoping to get a mid-week check, so hopefully you'll know how it is going before then.  Until then...

Still master of my domain,

Jeff "Mulva" Pool

Monday 1536: We Are Family

Last Friday's weigh in came on the heels of by far the toughest weekend The Challenge has seen so far.  Easter weekend set me back about five pounds at one point, so I went into last Monday praying for another Easter miracle that would let me get somewhere near the 266.8 that I came in at on Good Friday.  I believe last Monday I reported gaining a little over two pounds and weighing in at 269 after the tough weekend, which meant that I had five days to drop about three pounds.  Here was the result from this past Friday's weigh-in:

That's right, baby!  265 on the nose, a total of another 1.8 pounds from the week before, and down about four pounds from the weekend craziness.  Of all of the weeks of the challenge, I'm most proud of this one because I really did dig in and put up a fight last week to try to right the ship.  I'd say I probably went at 75% of my capability, which is saying something since I usually hover right around that 55-60% mark.  I worked out (once, but it still is a small victory), brought my own food to work, got up early and made smoothies, and ate somewhere in the neighborhood of 84 clementines.  I proved to myself that I could put together a strong five day run and persevere.

I celebrated my small victory in the way that I have every other week; I went out and did my best to undo every positive step forward that I made.  I know what my ultimate goal is, though, and I'm not going to get down on myself for having a social life.  Did I eat and drink a little too much?  Maybe, but only if you use "little" in the same way as, say, the Twins are having a little trouble winning or that Brett Favre has a little bit of an ego problem.  Regardless, the arrow is still pointing downwards and I'm still well on my way to my six-month, 30 pound goal.

What I really wanted to mention in this blog was how great I am in the friends' families department.  I hope I've made it clear that I have fantastic friends and a fantastic family, but this blog specifically is a thank you to friends' families.  It has always been important to me to get to know the important people in the lives of those who are important to me.  Maybe I'm delusional and I'm really the Eddie Haskell who everyone wishes would go away, but I really feel like I have formed some deep connections with these folks over the years.  When I left home to go to college for the first time, I was pretty emotionally rocked.  I was convinced that as soon as I left Hartford that my friendships would never be the same.  For me, I wasn't just choosing to leave the town or the state to go off into the scary world of Southwest Minnesota, but I was also leaving the "group" and going off on my own.  Granted, I still was on Messenger every night with my friends (this was pre-texting) and I came home most weekends to see my family and girlfriend (probably not in that order), but I felt like I was leaving a "family" that I had worked so hard to build over the years.  I actually went house to house to say good-bye, not to my friends, but to their families.  Any of them can attest that I was a mess as I went to each of their doors with tears in my eyes to give them a hug, thank them for taking such good care of me, and for welcoming me into their homes and families over the years.  Just as my parents had done for my friends, these people had on more than one occasion fed me, given me a ride to school on a snowy day, let me sleep on their couch, bandaged me up when I fell off my bike, and showed up to support me in all of my different activities, even when they didn't have a kid participating.

I was lucky enough to leave one group of friends who had wonderful families to find another group in college. In high school, our parents were kind of stuck having to like (or at least tolerate) our friends because we were constantly around and had been since we were little kids.  They watched us grow, understood our personalities, and did their best to love us anyway.  College parents are a different story.  College parents encounter their kid's friends maybe once a year.  If you hate your kid's friends, then you don't invite them to breakfast the next time you come to town to visit and there are no hard feelings.  Well, I again hit the friend jackpot and managed to surround myself with good people who came from good people.  I rarely turned down an opportunity to meet a sibling that was in town or to go home with someone to spend a weekend with their parents.  I'm always fascinated with how someone's upbringing shapes them into the person that they are, so I want to know as much about why my friends turned out the way they did.  Meeting and bonding with their families gives me insight into the first couple of decades of their lives that I missed out on.

I bring all of this up because I just spent a wonderful weekend with the families of two of my closest friends who treated me at every single moment like I was a member of their clans.  In both my best and my worst moments, they took care of me and reminded me why it is so important to have these extended relationships.  They wanted to know all about The Challenge, pledged to the cause, and promised that they would there to celebrate with me when it was all said and done.  We danced.  We laughed.  We told stories about the good times and made plans to have even more in the future.  For one day, we were a family reunited in Fargo, and I offer many thanks to the Malsams and Leendertses for reminding me how great being a part of your families really is.

I use this weekend as a specific example, but the same can be true of the way I've seen one friend's family rally around him as he's had some health issues or how another friend's family took me in just weekends after my February disaster and did their best to take my mind off of my troubles.  I'm Facebook friends with moms, dads, brothers, and sisters of my friends, and I'm proud to be able to call them "friend" outside of the Facebook context.  There are so many other examples from both high school and college that I wouldn't even know where to start listing them.  Just know that today I sit at this keyboard, game planning how I'm going to have a strong week, and thanking my lucky stars that I am a member of the greatest families in the world.

With much love,

Jeff