Monday 1543: Game on the Line

Before we get too deep into the blog post, we first must perform an exercise in the art of visualization.  Picture yourself, if you will, attending a professional basketball game where you spent $1,500 to sit court side.  Imagine that your two favorite teams are playing, and if one of your favorite teams is the Timberwolves, picture a different team who doesn't have all of their hopes pinned on Spanish Bieber who shot 27% from the floor coming off the bench in the Euro League.  Let's say it is Michael Jordan's '95-'96 Bulls playing Magic Johnson's '85 Lakers.  In this match-up, you have enormous hopes of seeing MJ do a breakaway dunk from the free throw line, Kareem drop a sky-hook over Luc Longley, and Scottie Pippen banging bodies with Magic Johnson.  You've been hyping this game to all of your friends and family, who happened to have also shelled out $1,500 to line the court alongside you.  The first whistle blows, the referee tosses up the initial jump ball, Kareem tips it to Magic and then...nothing happens.  It isn't that the two teams aren't playing hard.  There is a ton of competitive spirit on the court, but no one seems to be able to score.  Scottie completely shuts down Magic, who can barely get the ball up the court.  Ron Harper keeps trying to get it to Jordan, but he inadvertently keeps dribbling the ball off of his foot.  The first half ends and the score is 0-0.  You know that you're watching basketball greatness, but is it possible that both teams are so great that they are just cancelling out each other?  You look around the court and see the looks of confusion on the faces of your loved ones.  Didn't you just tell them that Jordan dropped 60 the night before and that he surely had an encore planned for all of them?

The second half tips off and it is more of the same.  Both teams are giving everything they've got on defense, and both teams keep making stupid, obvious mistakes on offense.  As a Bulls fan, you are happy that with all of the mistakes your team makes, including when Dennis Rodman punched a ref, kicked a cameraman, and peed on the Benny the Bull mascot costume at half-court, that somehow you're still in this game.  However, you're also more than a little disappointed because you've got a certain level of expectation of what this team is capable of, and now you've invested $1,500 to see those same results again.  Time continues to tick off the clock and the defensive game of the century continues to wage on.  Finally, there are 10 seconds left in the game. Jordan has the ball in his hands, and everyone is on their feet.  Jordan backs James Worthy down, fakes left, crosses over to his right, jumps up as he fades away and....

This is currently where I sit with this weight loss challenge.  I honestly don't know what comes next.  For the past three weeks I have lost exactly zero pounds.  I've also gained exactly zero pounds.  Nobody pays and gets excited to see a 0-0 game (do you hear me soccer?!).  From my years of weight loss fights, I can tell you that having stagnant results is the worst possible scenario for me.  If I lose weight, great!  Whatever I'm doing is working and I should keep doing it.  If I gain weight, shit!  But at least I can go back and look at what I'm doing and make the adjustments necessary to right the ship.  When I go almost an entire month at the exact same weight?  Well, now I start to question what the hell is going on and whether or not this is the exact weight that I'm stuck with at this lifestyle that I'm settling into.  I can assure you I am not comfortable with this weight or this lifestyle.  

Although the lack of posting in the past few weeks was mostly related to being busy at work, being stressed about money, and just having a general lack of things to say about anything, it is also hard to come here and continue to post the exact same picture of the scale week after week.  When I mess up and gain, I usually have a funny story and some personal affirmation that I can continue on.  When I do well and I'm happy, my blogs are no where near as much fun, but everyone seems to like a good success story.  When there aren't any results at all, well, I feel like I'm writing play-by-play for that 0-0 basketball game.  So, I guess I'm at a point where I'm waiting to see if Jordan's final shot goes in to win the game (which is what we've all come to expect) or if the Lakers defense was just too dominant and we end the game in a tie.  The worst possible case (which has happened more than once in the past three weeks) is that Jordan misses off the back of the rim so badly that it ricochets all the way back to the other end of the court and scores for the Lakers.  Seriously, I've done some really dumb sabotage things in the past couple of weeks in hopes of gaining weight and seeing the number move in some direction, just so I know that I don't need to replace the batteries in my scale.  I have seen the numbers go up one day, but they always settle back down the next.  

I'm going to settle back down this week and try to jump start the system.  I was at 258 this morning, so I'm really hoping to see something in the 256 range by Friday.  It is going to be tough because I have a social calendar filled to the brim every night this week, but I have to stop using that as a crutch.  Other people are able to go out and not weight 260 lbs.  I just need to make smart decisions and control what I can control.  I also need to get back on the literal basketball court.  We took last week off so that everyone could mend and because we were always short guys, but we are going to get started back up today.  It should be interesting. 

In the meantime, I'm going to use this picture that was taken a couple of weeks ago as my motivation to keep moving.  I'm hoping it is the Scottie Pippen alley-oop that I need to start putting points back on the board.  

Seriously, how do other fat people always avoid being photographed in profile, yet, someone always catches a picture of me looking perfectly round?  For further proof of this phenomena, go ahead and browse my Facebook pictures. Two pictures can be taken on the exact same day, and from the front I look great, from the side I'm all blimpy.  There's a reason all my Match.com pics are taken of me looking straight forward, preferably with my fat all stretched out and evenly distributed as I put my arms around two friends' shoulders.  Anyway, this picture was taken the week I hit 257 for the first time. I was super proud of where I was at and imagined myself looking pretty svelte.  Now that I've seen the picture I know that 257 was a great accomplishment, but it is nowhere near the end of my journey. 

I guess at this point the best we can hope for is that we don't see this:

But instead, maybe one of these:

Jeff Pool, 23

Monday 1540: My Letter Writing Campaign

I've decided that in today's go-go world of craziness that we no longer take enough time in our busy lives to communicate with the ones that we love.  I went off to college right around the time that e-mail was really taking off, so the joys of checking the mail daily to find a nice hand written note from a loved one was replaced with joke forwards and, eventually, 140 character or less text messages.  As someone who has always been fond of the written word, I've decided that I'm going to start a letter writing campaign to help bring back some civility and all the warm fuzzies that died right around the time Snooki signed up for Twitter.  I hope you enjoy a few of my chosen shared examples.

Dear McFast Food Restaurant Who Shall Remain Nameless,

I've made a conscious effort to avoid running through the drive-thru in my quest to drop some poundage.  One thing I haven't quite been able to avoid is my Wednesday morning ritual of stopping for breakfast in Cambridge because you've done such a great job of marketing directly to me with promises of low calorie/low fat options.  I don't want to reveal your identity because I would hate to single-handedly sway the popular opinion of your restaurant, but I almost always order the same medium black McCoffee, a large unsweetened McIced Tea, and your delicious new McOatmeal with cut up McRaisins and McApples in it.  It is the perfect McWay for me to start my McDay.  However, this morning your McCrew decided that my McOrder wasn't something that they felt they should properly pay any McAttention to.  I should have learned from my mother a long time ago to always check the McOrder before I McLeave your restaurant, but I was in a hurry this morning.  Admittedly, this is my McFault.  Still, you can imagine my McSurprise when I opened my McBag and found the McFruit and McWalnut Salad instead of my McOatmeal.  I get the McFruit from time to time, but I feel kind of stupid paying $2.50 for a half of a cut up apple, 3 grapes, 5 nuts, and yogurt that I strongly dislike.  Instead, I choose to pay $2.50 for McOatmeal that would only cost a nickel if I brought it from home, but that at least fills me up for the morning.  I was willing to forgive your first McTransgression, but I was a little disappointed when I opened the lid on my McCoffee to find that it had McCream in it.  I McWant you, I McNeed you, but at this rate, there ain't no way I'm ever gonna McLove you, because in this case, two out of three is McBad.  At least I took some McSolace in the fact that you couldn't possibly screw up my McTea.  Unless, of course, you gave me McSugar in it.  Which you McDid.  I've never had McIssues with your particular branch before today, so I'm not sure if it was McTraining Day or if the overwhelming addition of McBingo to your lobby on Wednesday mornings has become too stressful for the McTeam to handle.  Regardless, get your McShit together and let's try this thing again next McWeek.  If not, I'm afraid I will have to reveal your restaurant's identity to the world.

Sincerely,

Your Loyal McCustomer Jeff

Attention Fire Bug,

I want to take a moment to send you a thank you for reminding me how beautiful the sunrise can be on a crisp spring morning.  You see, had it not been for the fact that you fell asleep while cooking at 3 a.m., I would never have had the motivation to go outside that early on a Tuesday to sit on a curb with my fellow neighbors and feel the crisp air blowing through the pee hole in my pajama bottoms.  My years of professional experience in college housing made late night alarms seem like commonplace, so please don't worry about me being panicked or scared for my things as I struggled to find proper clothes and make my way down a smoke filled hallway.  After all, my insurance policy is all paid up and you probably would have done me a huge favor by helping me get rid of some of that unnecessary junk I continue to move from new home to new home.  Still, since you are as incompetent at burning down apartment complexes as you are at the highly delicate process of making a frozen pizza when you are drunk/stoned, I instead get to come home to an apartment that smells like it was built in the middle of a forest fire.  It is only a slight inconvenience that was more than made up for by that beautiful sunrise that I was able to witness as no less than three fire trucks and six cop cars filled our parking lot with their lights flashing at all times for a full two hours.  I hadn't really had a chance to meet any of my fellow neighbors since I'd moved in, so I'd also like to thank you for the opportunity to find out just how absolutely afraid I should be to come home on a nightly basis (just kidding, they were all great except for the crazy guy with the dog who was cursing at everyone to call 911 again because it took the fire department three minutes to get there and the dickhead with the Droid that felt the need to film the entire event and almost got knocked over because he wouldn't take his stupid camera phone out of the fireman's face).  Anyway, I hope you had a chance to talk with the firefighters and learn some techniques because I'm almost pretty sure you're going to need them to put out the flaming bags you're about to find on your doorstep.  

Warmest wishes,

Jeff in 203

Howdy to the Immigrant Family in 305,

Welcome to our country!  I haven't had a chance to formally meet you, but I am one of the biggest proponents of immigration as you try to chase that American dream.  I'd like to try to help out with the assimilation process as I'm deducing from your thick accents that you may not have had the benefits of yearly trainings in elementary school on fire, tornado, and atomic bomb drills.  We have two very distinct kinds of sirens that, like Pavlovian dogs, we have been trained to react to in very specific ways.  If we do, we usually begin to salivate and receive some kind of treat, like not dying.  The first alert comes from outside your apartment and is known as a "Severe Weather Warning".  This is usually blasted when there is a tornado or some other kind of potentially dangerous weather in the area.  Generally speaking, we do our best to get our families into a safe place where blowing glass and debris won't puncture their heads.  Admittedly, I'm a bit of a nervous-Nelly when it comes to weather, but if you turn on the TV or radio, they will generally confirm that parts of your city are being destroyed.  The other type of alert you will hear comes from inside your apartment, and that means there is a fire and that you should calmly make your way to the nearest designated exit.  It helps if you go over this plan with your children so that they also know what to do in case you are in some way incapacitated or absent.  When I was a kid, we were encouraged to do the math to figure out if jumping from our bedroom windows would kill us or just break our legs, and then someone invented a rope ladder.  They were living their American dream.  I mention all of these things because I'm almost positive there has been some kind of breakdown in communication considering the day that there was a lightning storm with tornadoes all around us, you decided it would be a great day to bring the kids outside to jump in puddles in the parking lot and, strangely enough, fly a kite while standing in said puddles.  Those clouds are really neat looking, but don't be fooled by the guy with the mullet standing next to you taking pictures of them.  We allow him to do that because he's probably safer in the parking lot than he would have been in his trailer park.  You, on the other hand, have a great apartment (albeit on the third floor) that features interior bathrooms far from windows and access to the ground floor hallways that serve as protective structures.  While part of our American lore was that Ben Franklin discovered electricity by flying a kite in a storm, please realize that lots of other people have died trying to do the same thing.  Also, when the fire alarm went off, you chose not to bring your family outside, but instead had all six of them stand on your tiny deck area.  The fire wasn't on your floor or near the staircase, so I'm 99% sure you had a clear path to safety.  Your decision to instead push the maximum weight limit on your patio and watch your neighbors from above was one that had us scratching our heads and that led to that policeman being so unkind to you as he tried to get you to come down using the stairs.  So, in summary, outside siren, stay inside; inside siren, go outside. 

Your concerned safety officer,

Jeff

To My Darling 29-year Old Jeff,

You are no longer 21. Please make the proper notes and act accordingly. Your already rest deprived body and mind can't handle unexpected losses of sleep because your neighbor decided to act as carelessly as you did all weekend.  Also, we're trying really, really hard to do a good thing and get healthy.  A three day binger of drinking, red meat, and cigars is not exactly what the doctor ordered.  Playing basketball yesterday was tough with smoker's lung and the smell of booze permeating from my overly sweaty pores.  Now we have to work extra hard just to get back to where we left off last week, which is tough because of the shortened week.  I'm afraid this might be my first week with a gain since I started this challenge.  Still, it was great to spend much needed time with friends.  I'll let it slide this time, but let's not make this a regular occurrence.

Still dealing with your sins,

Yourself

Dearest Kacey G.,

I wanted to give you a much deserved shout-out in the blog.  You've been a tremendous friend to me since I've moved to Minnesota and were integral in making me feel welcomed in my new group of friends.  You've always supported and pimped out my blog, and when I was so unexpectedly dumped in February, you stepped up your nagging efforts about why I wasn't posting regularly so that I wouldn't feel like I was missing a woman's harping voice in my head.  I may never need a wife as long as I've got you there giving me back-handed "suggestions" to get my weekly chores done.  Just kidding!  You are the tops, and even though you had to beg to get a mention, the blog probably would have died a long time ago without your encouragement and thinking that my Thanksgiving jokes were funny.  Keep on keeping me on track.

Roll Tide!

Jeffrey L. Pool

Hey Scale,

'Sup, buddy?!  I want to thank you for getting along with me so well these past couple weeks.  I'm not sure if you realize just how unhealthy my codependence on you is, but if this was 1992 and we lived in Long Island, I'd shoot your wife in the face.  That's how much I need you to love me.  Anyway, I'm writing to you today while we're still buddies to let you know that whatever I say this Friday when I step on you is not out of anger towards you, but rather out of disappointment in myself.  I had a few drinks, ate a small cow, and even ordered pizza at 3 a.m. because I'm smart enough to know better than to try to cook when I could potentially fall asleep and burn down a building.  In the process, I'm pretty sure I gained about 10 lbs.  Because of the short week and work conflicts, I was only able to play basketball once this week, which means I can't even rely on that to help get me back down.  I enclosed a picture that we took together last Friday before I started my downhill slide by drinking at 11:30 in the morning at a retirement party.  During this week's trials and tribulations, please look at this picture and remember with fondness the one glorious week when I was in control and together we succeeded.  I hope that by the end of next week I will once again be ready to hold you lovingly in my arms as we jump up and down to celebrate our big victory, much like last Friday when I hit 257 on the nose, a whopping 4.2 lb weight loss from the week before.  

I look forward to eventually celebrating the monumental accomplishment of 20 total pounds lost, which I'm hoping we can hit together in the next two weeks.  Just please, please don't take any of my anger this week personally.

Your fair weather friend,

Jeff