Understand that I mean no offense toward other humans when I say the following,

“As a human, I am inherently selfish and lazy.”

I use the identifier “human” in it's most general sense. That means I'll concede that you, personally, may not be selfish and lazy. I am. I admit it. Even when I'm doing something that appears selfless and entirely charitable, I'm doing it because I feel good after I've done it, or I felt good in the past after doing something similar. I'd say that particular motivation is fairly selfish of me.

Also understand that selfish and lazy isn't necessarily a bad thing. It just is the way I believe that it is. Mummies stagger, wolf-men howl, and vampires suck. That's just what they do, it's inherent and I accept it. I think people tend to do things in the most readily apparent and easiest way to satisfy their desire to feel good, and I characterize that as selfish and lazy. That method is used in most situations; in changing from straight to junkie, sober to alcoholic, fit to obese, and so on. We prefer doing things the easy way to get to the good feelings. The thing is, it's too easy to satisfy the selfish urges that do us the most harm.

The selfishness in which I most readily indulged resulted in obesity. Food tastes so good, I can just eat it up! My favorite holiday by far was Thanksgiving. Oh, the food! It just tastes so good and feels so warm in the stomach! Napping on a full stomach was like heaven! It just all felt so good.

Really? No, not really. Well, not entirely.

I recall horrendous heartburn and gas, stomach aches and terrible pumpkin pie hangover. I was truly miserable for most of the day following the big meal. Ugh! And the self-loathing! Don't get me started!

What is it that changes everything? Why am I so different now? Am I really any different? Who even thinks enough to answer such deep questions regarding my twisted psyche?

I do, that's who! I'm selfish and lazy and this is all about me! So let's take the easy stuff first. That makes sense. I'm really no different (other than lighter and thinner) than I was before. There, that knocks out two of the three questions right there; easy-peasy. I haven't changed at all, not one little bit--- but the way I think about things has.

That brings me to the first question. What is it that changes everything? The answer is not so surprising. I do, I change everything. I change what things mean to me; their definition and importance. Things like food and exercise for example. Food is now fuel that powers my body to exercise and exercise is something that I love that shapes and tones my body into what it should be, a lean, sculpted mass of what I was before I piled on the adipose.

Whoa! What I mean to say is that my renaissance is all about getting healthy and slimming down to my appropriate weight and BMI, all while toning and increasing strength and endurance. That's all. And because I've changed what things mean to me, I'm able to keep on keeping on. Delusion? Maybe, but it's what carries me. I'm thinking one form of delusion or another is what carries us all-- but none of that or anything mumbo-jumbo-ish matters, it's the RESULTS of our decisions and actions that lend proof to the pudding.

What would happen to an individual who consumed the proper amount of nutritional calories for a person of their actual height and ideal weight and who exercised the recommended amount each day (or week)? Say, for example, a guy was 6' 5” tall and the acceptable weight for a person his height was 200 pounds. Say this same person required 2,000 calories to maintain that weight.

So what happens to this guy after a year? Nothing. He stays healthy. But if the guy started out weighing 380 pounds and maintained proper eating and nutrition for a 200 pounder, then logic would indicate that his weight would decrease to compensate for the amount of food he was eating. His body would seek equilibrium. Simple addition and subtraction.

Now, I keep bringing this stuff up in one form or another as a re-affirmation; so that I'll believe it, internalize it, and continue to live it. It's been working so far and with the results I'm getting it's certainly a delusion I can live with.

Happy Halloween!

Down another pound--- boo-yeah!

221 days (31 weeks, 4 days) until equilibrium. I need to (scratch that) WILL lose 2.4 lbs. per week to meet my weight goal. Still a quite a ways to go but no worries.

I was thinking a little more about Subway Jared's story of weight loss this weekend. I tend to fixate on things between distractions and the momentary lack of shiny, pointy, or jittery objects within my periphery afforded a little time to reflect on the wisdom contained within Jared's sparse statements. Comments he's made in regard to motivation hit particularly close to home.

“I just wanted to walk in a room and have no one know I’m even there. That’s what I wanted,” said Jared in an interview.

Wow. That was me. At 6'5”, I was always the tallest guy in the room and developed a slouch to camouflage it. As I gained weight the slouch went away; I used the height to mask my girth. I'd buy progressively baggier clothes and stand as straight and tall as I could as far from the center of room as I could, just to avoid notice.

It didn't work and I really didn't enjoy the attention. I was becoming a monster-- watch out Tokyo! That was me as I was about six months ago. That self-image motivates me today and evermore to return to the stage in my life when I was just the tallest guy in the room.

Jared's “ways and means” also resonate with my own experience. He was consuming about 10,000 calories a day-- something I found difficult but do-able. Breakfast (1,300 cal.) and lunch (1,590 cal.) at BK, dinner (2,984 cal.) from PM, a dozen or so cookies (1500 cal.) and several (>10) handfuls (~100 cal.) of chocolate chips from the pantry several times a day gets you pretty close. I've never really been a fast food guy but I have been able to recreate quite a bit of what I could find on their menus and super-duper-size the portions to satisfy my glutenous cravings. And cookies--- man I ate a lot of cookies. I don't think i consumed 10,000 calories each and every day- just close enough to gain an extra 170 pounds over the past 15 years.

I look at “slaps” and “kicks” as those mini emotional traumas that motivate you to make a change. Some people call them epiphanies or self-realization. Me? Slaps and kicks- the type of motivation you'd use on a mule, are a better fit.

Anyway, the “slap” came when I discovered that my sweatpants were getting a little tight and uncomfortable and realized that sweats was all I had been wearing for the past several months AND THEY WERE TOO TIGHT. SWEATS.

Then came the next while reviewing pictures from a recent vacation. Somehow I was actually in a photograph (something that I NEVER allowed). It was a fairly normal shot of the family and friends just sitting around and enjoying the moment. The only thing is- and this really hit me, I looked miserable. I was like a miserable Jabba-the-Hut blob wrapped in sweats.

Then came the kicks.

I have some friends who signed up for one of those “miracle” weight loss programs that doubles as a business opportunity. As they began to experience success in their own weight loss, they turned to family and friends to share the opportunity. I put them off from the beginning, thinking is was just another fad, and being highly skeptical of MLM programs anyway, I was sure I had the intestinal fortitude to put them off forever. The thing is, what they were doing was working- working in a huge way.

We saw each other at the end of March of this year and in just two months (May 21st), I saw him again. The change was remarkable! He again offered to “help” me into the program. It was then that slaps and kicks converged into a life changing decision.

I decided that I would change. Not through a business opportunity but through true internal change. I was going to change ME and I have been ever since.

I mentioned "equilibrium" earlier. That's what my weight loss is all about. More on that later.

I once considered sandwiches the perfect meal; an insignificant envelope of bread transporting piles of filling material (what I thought the “meal” part was) past the lips and over the gums, look out stomach, 'cause here it comes mash-up of mouth-watering, appetite-staving, worry-free, nutritional-horn-of-plenty, Dagwood of goodness. Perception is a sun-shiny pixie chock-full of misconception, hallucination, and ignorance. Reality can ultimately become a consequence-ridden bee-atch.

That Jared guy didn't get thin pounding foot-long subs. He did it by cutting 8,000 calories from his daily diet and basically eating just a foot-long and a half. A guy could get fat on submarine sandwiches if you ate enough of them (a foot-long club is about 1,280 calories). Their sandwiches are pretty darn good- definitely a threat. Jared's self control is what I applaud and aim to emulate. Not necessarily with sandwiches but definitely with calorie control.

Personally, I've all but given up on sandwiches. It's the bread that scares me. I used to think nothing of it, using thick slabs of bread to keep my hands clean of condiments. Sometimes content juiciness required a lot of bread (think meatball sub) and all that bread, as it turns out, is made of calories. Don't get me started on pasta. I mean, who hasn't made a spaghetti sandwich? Because noodles are basically bread (ingredient-wise), that's like making a bread sandwich. I don't do that anymore.

In my imagination, Jared lived a Subway diet because of convenience. The company supplies nutritional information for all their sandwiches, so tracking calorie intake would be pretty easy. Convenience isn't necessarily a bad thing (for me) until it becomes the focus of a lifestyle and in my personal experience doing things a certain way just because it was easier or convenient never lasted. There is always something easier and more convenient being created and pushed by advertisers and the old me can get a little fickle.

Please don't interpret anything a say as critical of Jared, Subway, or anything but my own habits and weaknesses. I think they're all awesome, just not me. My renaissance thus far has been focused on personal change without gimmick or shortcuts. It's been simple, sure, but simple doesn't necessarily mean easy or convenient. It's been all about conditioning myself to do what I need and want without relying on things external. I believe lasting change develops in spite of, rather than because of, what advertisers try to sell you.

Good wich? Bad wich? I'm the guy with the gut.*

*(my apologies for the bastardized Army of Darkness misquote)

Geeze! I was limping like Festus Haggen yesterday. It seems I overdid it doing calf raises Monday and tweaked the crud out of my foot. I thought I was going to need a wahmbulance!

OK, a bit of exaggeration on my part. It did hurt and still does to a lesser degree today- but man-oh-man I had to baby it yesterday. No doubt I decided work around the calf raises this morning at the gym. It was still a pretty good workout and I was able to incorporate some other exercises I read about in Men's Health with the extra time.

So here's the thing; a what point do I stop? When do I quit? What is it going to take to make me abandon the path of self-improvement?

I once had a summer job that didn't require a lot of energy or attention. It was part of a scholarship program for engineering students at a new facility out in the middle of nowhere- or about 40 miles outside of a nowhere town in the vast expanse of the Wyoming high desert. Because it was a new facility just beyond the break-in period of production we had very little to nothing to do. Our days consisted primarily of driving around the site and taking pictures and generally just farting around (aka “busy work”).

I want everyone to know that I was and remain forever grateful to the large and powerful multinational corporation that provided me with such a lucrative summer job and generous scholarship money. The company was very helpful at a time when I needed it. All HAIL!

It was a cake job- and fairly dull most of the time-- a dullness that was countered by extracurricular partying with my coworkers. Partying all night. Every night.

It really took some conditioning and I'll admit that having fun all night long is strenuous and unforgiving. Just a month into the summer, the bags developing under my eyes had their own set of luggage and I found myself having a hard time making it through the day. I went from farting around during the day to power-napping; which is totally uncool no matter how “cake” your job is.

Well, one night I asked my coworker how she managed to maintain her seemingly endless amount of energy. “Don't you need to sleep sometime?” I asked in between shots of Jägermeister. She then introduced me to an oft-used misnomer I, myself, have used many a time since. “Sleep when you're dead!” she said and dragged me to the dance floor.

I'll never forget what I saw the next day when I walked into her office at the end of our shift. My party-all-night coworker sleeping in a puddle of drool at her desk. Not dead, just dead-tired.

The rest of the summer included generous razzing and a little less party.

Now back my questions.

1. When do I stop? Answer: Never stop, only adjust.
2. When do I quit? Answer: I'll quit when I'm dead.
3. What is it going to take to make me abandon this path of self-improvement? Answer: See #2 above.

So, better news at the scale this morning. Clearly, effort and vigilance is a boon to weight loss. I'll continue to work to make it a trend and then still continue until it becomes a lifestyle. Today's hallucination: A healthy life is the result of a healthy lifestyle. Today's affirmation: Live intentionally.

What, pray tell, does this have to do with Doc Holliday's infamous quote from the movie Tombstone? I guess you might call it Opposites Day.

I am no one's “huckleberry”. I'm not an Old West Shootist, nor am I a cavalier with a quick wit and boundless vocabulary. Thankfully, I'm not stricken with TB and I hope to never encounter a Johnny Ringo to aid a friend destined for a bullet. I'm just a guy bent on positive personal change.

I've been more a Huckleberry Hound kind of guy; affable and a little slow, living life by accident and somehow always making it through. That's been my modus operandi and that's been my crime.

No more.

I'm committed to living life with lazer-focused, hell-bent purpose.

Mediocrity exits stage left.

Yep- up a pound. Not what I wanted to see but not entirely unexpected either. Granted not a huge deal, but telling.

But on you will go
though the weather be foul.
On you will go
though your enemies prowl.
On you will go
though the Hakken-Kraks howl.
Onward up many
a frightening creek,
though your arms may get sore
and your sneakers may leak.

I was given Dr.Suess' Oh The Places You'll Go by a business associate at the end of a company retreat some fifteen years ago. I thought it a joke at the time. It wasn't until reading it on the flight home that I came to realize the unconventional wisdom contained in its all-too-colorful pages. I still find it inspiring and recommend everyone read it with a mind wide-open.

So...
be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray
or Mordeci Ali Van Allen O'Shea,
you're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your Mountain is waiting.
So...get on your way!

It's funny. After almost five months “climbing my mountain” I've come to develop an intuition of-sorts in regard to my weight. I think it is probably due to an increased overall focus on diet and activity and its' effect on how I feel and what the scale is going to report. Weighing myself three days a week helps too- heightening my awareness of the effects of different types of food and different levels of exercise.

This morning I KNEW I had gained weight even before I stepped on the scale, not in a doom and gloom, depressing kind of way, but in a way that I can only describe as “clinical”. Yesterday we took our kids to the orthodontist for an evaluation. It was an early morning appointment and conflicted with my track schedule. Ah, priorities. I've also been experimenting with the introduction of different foods and discovered, Scientifically speaking,

Consumption of regular white flour pasta (ravioli) in an exercise-free environment = weight gain

So there you go. Consistent weight loss requires consistent vigilance. Considering that I still have a ways to go to meet my goal, you can be sure that I am reverting back to prior (successful) methods. Namely sticking to my original plans of consuming the proper foods in the proper quantities while maintaining consistent exercise.

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go.

I'm going to reach my goals. I've decided.

Once upon a time, COMFORT and HABIT carried me through the day. I never wanted to be hot or cold, hungry or stuffed; I wanted to be JUST RIGHT. Now, I'm no Goldilocks and there may be nothing wrong with being comfortably just right- only the way I went about it.

When the room was too cold, I turned up the thermostat. Too hot and down it went. When I was hungry I ate, probably a little too much. When I was over-stuffed I would try to counteract the symptoms with Pepto-bismol or (how do you spell relief?) Rolaids. Comfort relied on EXTERNAL stimuli.

My downfall was a cataclysmic “domino effect” through over-compensation. All the while I was only seeking comfort and never finding it, only experiencing a series of REVERSALS.

Guess what? I got to the point where I was consistently uncomfortable INTERNALLY. Relying on external sources for comfort, it seems, is a short-term fix with one hell of a list of side effects. My dependence was debilitating and acclimating to new situations required increasingly higher levels of countering stimulus. Heavier coats when it was cold and more food when I was hungry were just a few examples. I was also going through the antacid like it was candy and candy like it was, well, candy.

Ultimately I realized that comfort can be a dangerous thing. It breeds complacency and stagnation. It hinders physical, personal and intellectual growth. It means my Bubbie (I called her G-ma, what I deemed her gangsta name) was indeed a wise woman. I used to think she was just grouchy.

Her house was always kind of cold. Not really warm enough to be cool, but almost-see-your-breath-cold. I (being comfort-driven) made it a point to let her know about it.

“If you're cold do the dishes, “ she'd growl.

I did a lot of dishes at G-ma's house.

And you know what? I warmed up. Not just because of the blister-causing water temperature that G-ma insisted on, but because I was actively doing something. After the dishes were done there were plenty of other chores that made her house feel quite warm. Did her house actually warm up? Of course not, G-ma wouldn't have that. The truth is, I warmed up. I changed INTERNALLY.

Personal improvement requires effective internal change. Effective internal change requires movement. Without movement, the best I can hope for is temporary comfort.

I no longer consider myself a creature of comfort and habit. I constantly try to run just a little farther, lift a little more weight, do more reps, alternate my bleacher climbs, and generally make myself uncomfortable.

The payoff has been worth the discomfort. A month or so ago, I went through all my old (outgrown) clothes and separated them into stacks based on size. I have stacks that go back twenty years. The cool thing is that I've just moved on to another stack, which I think is significant considering that I've also been retiring clothes that have become too large for my diminishing frame.

My clothes are probably way out of style though- circa 1995, but hey, I'm getting thinner and that never goes out of style.

I like people, I really do. Not a lot- but somewhat. It's definitely not a love thing. More a nod and a wave kind of “I'd help you if you need it but probably not take a bullet for you” thing with humanity as a whole.

Let me try that again.

I appreciate people.

I appreciate their differences both physically and in personality; all sizes, shapes, kindreds, and tongues. I appreciate that people are individuals who sometimes want (sometimes desperately) to be identified as belonging to some subset of humanity. Good for them. I recognize and appreciate that. I also appreciate their desire for personal vindication through incessant recruitment for their subset. Their belief that my joining them will somehow validate their choice- that in saving me, they are justified in what they do- no matter how ridiculous their current fad may be.

I'm most definitely not saying that what everyone else is into at the moment is ridiculous, nor am I saying that what I'm into isn't. I am a remarkably ridiculous individual, a disappointment to my mother, and a mysterious enigma to those who have breached the perimeter of my meager influence. I'm most surely no prize and my personal esteem is without measure- that's right, nothing.

But I'm good with all that because there is nowhere to go but up, nothing to do but improve, and little to say but, “Thanks, but no thanks!” when it comes to invitations designed to miraculously change my life.

All the programs, classes, diets, trainers, pills, powders, and miscellaneous voodoo are just not for me. I'm about transformation; lasting change, and permanent modification. In my mind, all the quick-fixes are short term.

There is an aerobics class that meets right next door to the weight room. It's an enthusiastically loud group with an outrageously loud teacher who constantly yells and screams her students through their workout. “Good for her,” I say. “Good for them,” I say. “Join us,” they say. “Thanks but no thanks,” says I.

I can only imagine what relief I would feel once the class was over and the teacher was no longer around to scream at me. It would be like a vacation- which means that the class would be exactly the opposite; work under a screaming boss. Ugh!

But it might work, I might get into better shape- at least while I am in class. Outside of class my motivator would not exist, and without her I'd probably slack off.

What I'm getting at here is that, in my mind, it's up to ME to do the screaming and yelling. It's up to me to motivate myself through this renaissance. It's up to me because I'm the only one who is always going to be there throughout the entire process and I'm the only one who is going to stick around long enough to enjoy the results.

As of this morning I've lost 89 pounds since May. Me. I did this. Not a pill, a trainer, or a program. Me. I'm confident that if I stay my course I will reach my goal. Would someone else's fad diet, trainer, or pill help me? Possibly, but I think I'll pass. What I'm doing is working for me- any distraction will probably slow me down.

Maybe you should be doing what I'm doing. Hey, I can get you started.

Gotcha! You do whatever you want. I appreciate your motivations. I appreciate your individuality. Hell, I might even like you...

But let's keep it casual. You do your thing and I'll do mine.

"Endeavor to persevere." What the heck does that mean, exactly?

Not only is it a line from one of my favorite movies (The Outlaw Josey Wales), but just the type of nonsensical combination of words that is applicable to my goals of weight loss and personal transformation. Strive to persist; keep on keeping on. That's what I'm doing- moment by moment.

What keeps a person on a redundant path of exercise and moderation when past habits created a life of gluttony and self-indulgence? What, indeed?

This leg of my journey, almost five months long, has been remarkable. I've lost 88 pounds, can do more (physically) than I've been able to in years, can fit into clothes that I haven't worn in more than ten years, and have fewer aches and pains than I can remember. My life is transforming- one lap/rep/smoothie after another.

A boring repetition of healthy living.

People get bored with exercise all the time. Gyms that were crowded in January are all but empty by April. It happens- people, in general, are in a constant state of trying to improve for the moment only to settle back into old habits a short time later.

Am I any different? Only time will tell. I've experienced what I consider steps along a path to ultimate success; a journey that ends with me dying healthy (weird, huh?). My goal is to improve each and every day- until there are no more days, to reach my goal weight by my next birthday, to read more, improve my family relationships, etc.

So, again, what drives me? The promise of improvement beyond the mediocre, the absolute and interminable pain I've linked to what I deem as failure, and the palpable joy of what I deem success. The repetition of healthy living is not and cannot be boring because it is the means by which life becomes amazing.

The line from the movie goes something like this: Lone Watie (Josey Wales' Indian sidekick for part of the movie, and an awesome character) says, "We thought about it for a long time, "Endeavor to persevere." And when we had thought about it long enough, we declared war on the Union."

Well, I've thought about it a while and I've declared war on mediocrity, obesity, and anything less than an amazing life.

Ah, the Great Outdoors! Trees and woods, rocks and rills (rills?!?), valleys and templed hills, my heart with rapture fills...

You know the rest.

My two sons, my brother-in-law, and I just returned from a hunting trip in Central Oregon and I've got to say, it was awesome! Before any of you friends of animals get in a twist, no, I didn't kill any of God's little furry creatures- nor have I ever. Truth be told, I'm not much of a hunter. I'm big and loud and not a very good shot. A deer would probably have to wrestle my rifle away from me and shoot itself.

But I love to go hunting. I love crunching through the woods while armed and hanging around the campfire. I love being “out there” as a primitive man, tracking my next meal- at least pretending to. I love everything about hunting, minus the killing. Which is why, after 20 plus years of hunting and a multitude of animal-in-the-cross-hairs opportunities, I have yet to shoot a living thing. I'm sure I could, but my family would have to be pretty hungry before I could pull the trigger.

Predatory wimpy-ness aside, it was a great time. Now on the accommodations wimpy-ness; butt-freezing-wise.

It was c-o-l-d, cold. Highs in the 50's, lows in the 20's to 30's, cold. Too cold for a tent, cold. Two sleeping bags, wear a full set of sweats and socks to bed, cold. Yeah, it was a little chilly. We survived.

Oh, and my “bed”. It was one of those accordion-style collapsing cots with a zipped-in air mattress. Really comfy- when it isn't broken and the air mattress actually holds air. I was really looking forward to a comfortable night off the ground. I set up the cot- only to find that four legs (one complete side) were broken- probably from one of my daughter's slumber parties (trampoline-fun). I jerry-rigged the legs and inflated the mattress; hoping that all would be well, only to return to a flat mattress. I refilled it prior to climbing into bed and spent the rest of the night clinging to one side of the cot while the air left the mattress and I sank to the ground in a shivering heap.

Nights were a little tough.

The days were great. My youngest son and I hiked for miles (about 6 per day) up and down hills and cliffs, gullies and some awesome terrain. It was strenuous but I made it through- a heck of a lot easier than last year. Had I not dropped the 80+ pounds I would have croaked. As it was, no huffing and puffing, no sweating, no problem. Four months ago was a different story.

I was able to maintain my usual eating patterns and food choices, less the smoothies. I made up for those by eating the components separately; protein mix (made like hot chocolate), berries, peanut butter, etc all work pretty well by themselves even in small amounts. Easy-cheesy.

All in all it was a great time and after my weigh-in this morning I'm feeling pretty good about staying on-plan no matter what I'm doing and no matter where I go- something sure to continue as long as I am committed.

We're doing it again next year- in a trailer- with beds- and a heater.

I went into Costco yesterday and walked out $250 lighter. You might say that I'm winning the Battle of the (Wallet) Bulge. Shopping at Costco has always been costly- it seems I can't get out of there for less that $200. They've got so much cool stuff, and all of it is super-duper-sized.

Now, just because I buy in bulk, I don't HAVE TO consume in bulk. Unless that's what I am expected to do... Ah, the Costco conspiracy of excess consumerism.

The trip to Costco is a multi-staged event. Once I return and unload, the process of divide and vacuum packing ensues. It's an all-day affair. When I'm done, all the stuff is in its' various envelopes and canisters- ready for use when the time comes. You just gotta dig that Food-saver invention. It's especially useful when to comes to preparing for camping trips- like the one this weekend.

I was a jerk in college. Scratch "was", I'm probably still a jerk. You can't really outgrow that can you?

Some of our fun little frat-boy games involved embarrassing ourselves and others in the supermarket. One way we'd accomplish this feat was to crowd around the shopping cart of some hapless individual and shout out, "Good Gawd, look at what these people eat!"

Now this statement was rarely appropriate to what was in the cart. It didn't matter; we were jerks. What followed was several announcements over the intercom and the addition of several items of our own choosing until the completion of our beer purchase had been made by our designated non-player/guy-old-enough-to-buy-beer. We'd leave the store laughing like idiots and high-five-ing each other while some housewife tried to regain her composure and restock her cart. Trust me, it was freakin' hilarious (only to us).

This and a lot of other shenanigans practically guarantees I'll have a few talking points during my inevitable stay in purgatory.

This confession will now segue into one of my favorite energy sources: the smoothie.

I love my smoothies; they're quick, cold, and taste great. The ingredient list is short and I always have stuff on hand, and with my Magic Bullet, it's oh-so-easy.

There is no real recipe, just a list of ingredients I combine in different ratios to create a certain calorie range (140 - <300). They are:

1. EAS Protein Powder - chocolate tastes best imho
2. Unsalted Natural (peanuts only) Peanut butter - drained of excess oil
3. Frozen berries (my favorites are blueberries and marionberries)
4. Banana
5. Unsalted Natural (almonds only) Almond butter - drained
6. Nonfat Yogurt
7. Water
8. Ice

Initially I logged into Fitday.com and use their food journal to create the right ratios based on their nutrition database. After a while I just had an idea of what to combine to get the desired calories and protein/carb ratios. For example, a full serving EAS Protein is 140 calories + 1/2 (3 inches) banana 46 calories + 1/2 cup blueberries 41 calories = AWESOME + 227 calories.

Values for each ingredient are on the website and experimentation is a must. Also know that it takes very little (a teaspoon = 35 calories) of an ingredient like peanut butter to make a dramatic difference in the flavor. Even the protein blended only with ice is pretty good.

So, that's it- my favorite diet fuel. It may not be all that exciting but hey, food is supposed to be just that- fuel. If you have any additional ideas, please let me know. And to all those people I've been a jerk to throughout my life; my apologies. Please find comfort in knowing that I plan on expanding my renaissance beyond my waistline.

No change in weight over the weekend- Dammit!

Sorry, that really is not quite curse-worthy. Such a thing is not entirely out of line but it should still (and will still) be monitored. If there is no progress when I weigh in on Wednesday I'll take a serious look at modifying my behavior. Or...

I could start pointing fingers right now, blaming this or that for my stymies. I don't think I will. I mean hey, I could have soaked up a pound or so of rain on the walk over to the gym. Sure- it could happen. I'm pretty tall (6'5”) and it takes a lot of cotton to cover a robust guy like me- and everyone knows how absorbent cotton is.

Lame.

It's far more likely that I over-indulged this weekend. Friday was our family's traditional Pizza-and-a-Movie Night. I didn't eat pizza though. I had some left-over steak over broccoli. Probably a little too much and a little too late in the day. Oh, and I confess that I did scrape the toppings off a small slice of chicken garlic pizza and eat them (avoiding the crust makes it OK--er, DEFINITELY NOT OK!). And last night I had some of this killer pasta sauce (again over broccoli not pasta) that was full of vegetables and beef and CHEESE. I didn't have all that much, but it was pretty rich and again pretty late in the day.

Exercise-wise, I did run the bleachers on Saturday- though I only did three laps because the high school marching band was out there using the track. (I really should've/could've gotten there sooner).

The thing is, any lack of progress can probably be linked to my behavior over the past couple of days. Proof-positive that the magic of weight loss relies on that basic formula of calories in versus calories burned and always will. You might say that my lack of progress exhibits equilibrium- that my equation balanced instead of showing a caloric deficit, and that would sound so scientific and authoritative (bravo you genius!). But what you should do is kick me in the pants and yell at me to stick to what's been working all these months (four so far) and not look for excuses.

Now that would be proper.

Is that what I need? Someone kicking me in the pants? Probably. Instead I think I learn from the experience and fix things myself. That's what life is all about isn't it? Try, experience, learn, fix it, try again?

I didn't lose weight. My bad. I think I know why. Now I'm back and re-focused.

Onward I go, pants self-kicked.