For-Dee

Like any abusive relationship, I am having a hard time ending it. Hell, it is 3:14 pm and I needed a ruling from Wes to do it, but I am officially ending the diet. I hit my weight goal of 185 this morning.*

I have lost 40 pounds over the last 18.5 months. This was the goal I set for myself September 7, 2008 when I just one day decided that I was going to lose forty pounds and set about doing it. I have lost six pant sizes, from 40 to 34, although my 34s are kind of loose on me. Two shirt sizes, from XL to M, although I find it silly that I would wear a medium, partly because since circa 1991 I have only worn clothes that are big enough to not actually touch my body (and, yes, I wore an onion on my belt, as was the style of the day).

Those who have followed the diet exploits, or have been forced to listen to me prattle on endlessly about it, know that it has not been easy. I could say that I did it with diet and exercise and not be completely lying about. I walk to and from work each day and play two hours of full-court on Fridays. When I am "on-diet" I eat little-to-no fat, never having even the littlest of treats, diet cola, American-style lager most of the time, apples, oranges for snacks. I try to keep it under 1200 calories a day. When I am "off-diet" I try to do all of these things as well, but not quite so religiously. I have been alternating 100 days on, 100 days off (or so).

While I could say "diet and exercise" and be done with it, that would really be a lie. When I am on-diet, I rival the worst teenage girl when it comes to what I eat. I obsess over it constantly. When I weigh-in a pound up, I beat myself up for snacking (a bag of microwave pop corn, 240 calories) the night before. I know the calorie count of most foods. I cook meals for others that I don't eat, having a bowl of soup instead (220 calories for the noodles, just 200 for the rice, 160 for the "chicken and vegetable"). I know exactly how much to subtract from my scale weight when I am wearing clothes (8 pounds for sweatshirt, pants, and shoes. 5 pounds without the sweatshirt and shoes. 3 pounds without the pants) so that I can estimate my next-day weight. When I feel good about myself and how I look, I remind myself that I am x pounds overweight. Did I mention that I talk about it endlessly?

Which is to say this, thanks for putting up with me. Jesus, thanks for putting up with me. Thanks for encouraging me, even if it was only to discourage me from going too nuts about it. At least I will be living longer to bore you with my food habits.

As effing cheesy as it sounds, I did this mostly because of health concerns and a desire to be around for a long time to see my daughter grow up. I had quit smoking, and cut way back on the drinking, but I knew that my liver and weight were still issues. I think (still too afraid to go into the doctor for fear of bad news) that I have eliminated those concerns. Cholesterol and blood pressure were always good.

As I mentioned in the opening, I will still struggle with this. You don't just go off Focusin. My weight will creep back up. I will try to tell myself that if I weigh 195, that's 30 pounds less than I was. I will try to stop reminding myself that I am still 10 pounds overweight when I am feeling good about myself. I doubt I will accomplish these goals and we may be here again some day, talking about my weight and diets, but for now, I did it. Hopefully I will be able to feel good about it, for now my brain still won't let it go, a large part of me wants to keep going. This is the part I fear. As I said, I ahev to get out before it destroys me.

Which is a pretty fucked up way to end a post celebrating the end of a year-and-a-half long diet, but there it is. My name is Dave, I weigh 185, and I am trying to be okay with that.


*Partial transcript of an IM conversation with my wife I had this afternoon might explain some my ambivalence, and give some insight into my mental state, in the comments.

I'll Boycott Anything!

I'm joining in the Wonkette boycott, even though I only have the vaguest idea what is going on. On the recommendation of Goff. Any friend of Goff's is a friend of mine (with the obvious exceptions).

Screw them all!

Is This How It's Done?

That's what she said. No! No time.

Ash passed this "meme" on to me. A little game the kids are playing, I guess.

First, the rules:
There are a set of questions below that are all of the form, "The best [subgenre] [medium] in [genre] is..." Copy the questions, and before answering them, you may modify them in a limited way, carrying out no more than two of these operations:

You can leave them exactly as is.
You can delete any one question.
You can mutate either the genre, medium, or subgenre of any one question.
For instance, you could change "The best time travel novel in SF/Fantasy is..." to "The best time travel novel in Westerns is...", or "The best time travel movie in SF/Fantasy is...", or "The best romance novel in SF/Fantasy is...".
You can add a completely new question of your choice to the end of the list, as long as it is still in the form "The best [subgenre] [medium] in [genre] is...".
You must have at least one question in your set, or you've gone extinct, and you must be able to answer it yourself, or you're not viable.
Then answer your possibly mutant set of questions. Please do include a link back to the blog you got them from, to simplify tracing the ancestry, and include these instructions. Finally, pass it along to any number of your fellow bloggers. Remember, though, your success as a Darwinian replicator is going to be measured by the propagation of your variants, which is going to be a function of both the interest your well-honed questions generate and the number of successful attempts at reproducing them.


So, without further ado:
My great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandparent is Pharyngula.
My great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandparent is Metamagician and the Hellfire Club.
My great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandparent is Flying Trilobite.
My great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandparent is A Blog Around the Clock.
My great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandparent is Primate Diaries.
My great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandparent is Thus Spake Zuska.
My great-great-great-great-great-great-grandparent is a k8, a cat, a mission.
My great-great-great-great-great-grandparent is Monkeygirl.
My great-great-great-great-grandparent is DancingFish.
My great-great-great-grandparent is Dr. Brazen Hussy.
My great-great-grandparent is Addy
My great-grandparent is MommyProf
My grandparent is Dr. Curmudgeon
My parent is pop tart


The best television series in SciFi is: Lost
The best cult movie in comedy is: This Is Spinal Tap
The best children's book in detective fiction is: Encyclopedia Brown, Boy Detective
The best comfort food in Italian cooking is: Sausage-stuffed Manicotti
The best television series in comedy is: The Office

Oh, yes: DR, Mike3550, and nephew, it is your turn.

Plugs

my friend, space kitten, is back in town and is posting again, so if you've stopped checking over there, please resume. encourage the "bambino blogging," as someday I hope to be put in the position of having to decide which of your kids is the cutest (you know you've got it, lex).