Today was "Max Out The Machines Monday" and what a load of fun that was. The gym was... packed. And it was full of those people who, bless their desire to improve themselves, had not been to a gym in a long, well, ever.

I think it's great that they were there and that they want to get in shape- hey, standing ovations all around. It's just that, while they brought with them a little motivation, they left their manners and basic hygiene somewhere else. I miss the good old days (like from May through yesterday) at the gym when it was just a handful of dedicated, respectful, and conscientious people. Here's the short list of observations:

Taking turns? Nope.
Wiping personal ooze from machines when finished (even though it is posted on each machine)? Nuh-huh.
Resisting the urge to sing along to their iPod at full volume? C'mon, old dude singing along to Britney Spears is kinda creepy.

I am looking forward to March when most of the motivation associated with New Year's resolutions wanes and I can get "my" gym back. Until then, I'll keep on keeping on; politely doing my workout and wiping my ooze from the machines when I'm done.

The scale is bending to my will again- finally edging solidly past the 111 pound mark. Offsetting the cookies and pumpkin pie required effort and is certainly not a nutritional path I will continue. I've come too far to succumb to such weak temptation.

I worked on the stair machine for 20 minutes at the gym this morning, did two regular and one half-weight sets on the weight machines, and did the running thing to and from the gym. This works out to a little over an hour of exercise and is typical of my Saturday routine. It's no walk in the park but it is effective and sustainable and that is what it takes for me to get where I need to be.

It's been more than seven months and I have yet to tire of the exercise routine. I look at it as a necessity of life- for the rest of my life. June 6, 2008, 160 days into my future, isn't the end of my renaissance, it's a milepost along my path.

Cheers to a safe and productive trip.

I don't know about you but I'm ready for the holidays to be OVER! I just don't think I can stomach any more joy without having to loosen my belt a notch or two. Just look at the stats. I've gained a pound and have yet to get back on the fat-burning wagon- at least not as far as my scale is concerned. Yesterday it was pumpkin pie. Some people don't like it and that is Oh Kay! More for me. I could live on it from Turkey Day through Champagne Day. The sweet, smooth consistency just piled with Amaretto whipped cream and garnished with shaved dark chocolate...

SLAP! SLAP! SNAP OUT OF IT!

Phew! Thanks, I needed that. Friggin' food-induced euphoria. Got... to... get... things... back... into... perspective... Got... to... focus...

There we go. First off, it's not "Turkey Day" and "Champagne Day", it's Thanksgiving and New Year's. It's like calling the Super Bowl "Hot Wings and Super Nachos Day". Holidays and sporting events are not about the food they're about the celebration, the joy, the camaraderie, and the gratitude. I think about all the family gatherings we've had when the focus was on the meal rather than just spending time together. Granted, Aunt Gert can't criticize my taste in neckties while her face is stuffed with smoked salmon but still, do we need to do everything around a huge meal?

Our New Year's party is coming up and this time it's not about the food. Usually we have quite the spread of high calorie gut-busters; lot of hots wings, sausages, cheeses, cakes, pies, cookies, the list goes on. This year we're down-playing the carbs and striving for a little more nutrition- just enough to fuel the camaraderie without becoming the focus. We'll have to see how it goes.

As I skimmed an issue of Mens Health yesterday, I landed on a short article suggesting I should end my workout with a set using less weight with higher number of reps- so this morning I gave it a try. Two sets of nine reps at full weight followed by a set of eighteen reps at half the weight. What fresh hell that was. Burn baby, burn! I'm going to give it a month to see if it lives up to the promise of increasing definition in the affected muscle groups. Will pain promote gain? We'll see.

Merry (Your Holiday Here)! I trust everyone's dreams and wishes were fulfilled. They were? Good. Moving on...

I haven't reported in (or on myself, to myself) in the last few days. I guess there's something about the season that is just so very distracting; what with all the shiny lights and music, and that's just from the cash registers (ding, ding ka-ching). Most distracting of all are the cookies. Cursed, tiny disks of goodness! Fa-la-la-la!

I didn't let up on my efforts though, which is good because I did give in to some indulgences, which is bad and has my wife back in the kitchen creating more to bolster our supply of goodies for the upcoming New Year's festivities. Just when you thing you've wiped out the supply of macaroons DING! goes the oven timer. Oy!

Like I said, I didn't let up on my efforts and managed daily exercise. However, gym closures forced me back to the bleachers to face some seriously icy (and thus deathly exciting) laps around the high school track. This morning I was back in the gym and even though it's a Wednesday, working on my Monday routine. I've decided to change things up a little on Mondays and have instituted my personal "Max-Out The Machines Mondays" routine.

Typically I do three sets of nine reps at each of six stations. Mondays I max-out (weight-wise) each station on the third set. I haven't always been able to do a full nine reps but usually make it to a multiple of three (3 or 6) before pooping out. I'm careful not to over-do it and cause an injury and am totally eating up the false sense of machismo this gives me. It definitely makes for a more interesting workout. And the impatient little guy sighing, clicking his tongue, and eye-balling me while he waits for his turn at the station? Shuts him right up (don't make Hulk angry).

It's been seven months since I decided to change my life and I think I'm beginning to see some results. Weight loss for me has been all about shrinkage. My waistline has shrunk by 8 inches, my neck by 3 inches. All in all, I'm becoming a narrower version of my former self. I've become stronger, too.

OK wait, please indulge me one little clarification and let me state right now that everything I say is in RELATIVE TERMS; relative to what I was like when I started and in no way compared to any other human being out there. I'm all about ME and I compare myself only to various version of myself and no one else. I know there are those of you out there who are leaner, stronger, smarter, and better-looking than I could ever hope to be. That's great! Good for you! You should be proud. In my little universe there are but THREE people; OLD-ME, ME, and FUTURE-ME. Everyone outside my universe inspires me- like bright, shining stars of possibility.

I've been getting a lot of compliments the past few weeks- mostly from people who only see me on a weekly basis. I'm grateful. It's kind of weird when people compliment me on something that, in my mind is repair rather than improvement. I don't even tell people (outside this blog) how much I've lost. When they ask, I respond with something like, "An embarrassing amount," "One of you," "Almost 8 stone," or "About 16 clove." Still, compliments are a little motivating and I'll take 'em whenever given.

People usually ask how I'm doing it, which program I'm on, or what tricks I'm using to lose weight. "Gypsy curse" is my favorite idiot reply-- and is a lot more interesting than what I'm actually doing. Most people want to hear about some sweat-free, miracle-quick-fix in candy and pie form that I've only had to do every fifth Tuesday of every even-numbered month to drop the weight.

Ultimately I tell them that it's all just attitude and simple arithmetic; I did a little research and discovered what a healthy guy my age needed to do, exercise-wise and diet-wise to maintain a healthy weight, then I decided I'm going to become that guy. The ongoing result is that I'm burning more calories than I'm consuming. I'm committed to becoming that healthy guy, every day, for the rest of my life. It wasn't Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, or Phen-phen that took 111 pounds off my body; it was me.

My compliments to all of you working toward similar goals, it ain't easy. You are mighty. You inspire me.

John makes some very strong points about the benefits of publicly journaling your weight loss efforts. I can personally attest to the benefits.

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Down a pound at the gym this morning. I've got 40 more to go and I think it is all located right around my middle. This journey has taken me from a Michelin Man-shaped creature to something a little closer to "typical" for a guy my age- that is, sporting a gut and love handles in the oh-so-desireable form of a spare tire.

TV commercials tell me that fat stored around my middle is some sort of "cytosol" or some other legitimate sounding, medi-babble related issue caused by stress and a sedentary lifestyle. Commercials seem to address just about everything I can imagine to be wrong with me. Tivo has pretty-much rectified that; I love fast-forward and the curative powers of commercial ignorance.

One thing I've learned thus far that most everyone already knows is that wanting something doesn't necessarily get you something. You have to take action. You have to ask, you have to do. Doing differentiates wishes from goals. Lesson learned and off I go!

I'm working through some additional unexpected stressful garbage just now and I'm amazed by how physically debilitating it is. Sleeplessness, weakened limbs, tremors, headaches, blurred vision, lack of concentration, and the list goes on. This stress is powerful stuff. Going to the gym this morning helped a lot. My goal is to take care of it today and get some relief. There is a latin phrase, "Non illigitamus carborundum" (Don't let the bastards grind you down). That's my mantra today.

If weight loss were a religion, scripture would warn us against cookies. Over-indulgence and my gaining a freakin' pound this weekend has me feeling repentant. Thus, an excerpt from the Book of Cookies, Chapter 3, verse 11 and 12:

Damn thy sweet crunchy goodness thou slayer of diets, thou foiler of shrinkage! I curse thy coconut, thy chocolate chip, thy caramel and beg mercy. For thou art mighty though be ye small and cunning- yes! For though my plate be full one moment, verily it is empty the next and I remember not thy consumption. Surely ye shall be my undoing should I not regain my will.

Woe be unto the children of men, for they will savor not thy sweetness, thy crunch, for father has eaten them all, and shared with them not. It is temptation that triumphs over thee and makes clothing bind and belly jiggle. Eat them not, thy Berry Thumbprint, thy Macaroon, for therein lies peril and thy doom.

OK, so weight loss need not become a religion but it certainly needs to become a habit. I've made some bad choices this past weekend but I've refocused, hit the gym hard this morning, and my wife has put the cookies out of reach. Color me, "back on the wagon".

What a wonderful season it is! A season of friendship, family, and togetherness. A joyous time of thankfulness and charity. A time of gift-giving and cheer. It is with that spirit that I feel I must express my gratitude for the bounty that's graced my life.

I'm thankful for good health and a shrinking waistline.
I'm thankful for My wife and children- the source of greatest joy.
I'm thankful for friends and family.
I'm thankful for ample food and shelter.
I'm thankful for the kindness I've witnessed in the world.
I'm thankful for all the "stuff" that makes modern life a little more convenient.
I'm thankful for whatever opportunities that come my way.
I'm thankful that no one has invented a rectal pedometer.

OK, OK, the pedometer thing is a little ridiculous but hey, now that I've planted the seed just wait and see if Richard Simmons doesn't have an infomercial touting the health benefits of just such a device come next holiday season.

Before it happens, take a look at JohnIsFit and see if you can't win a leg-powered model. He's a very interesting read and by entering his give-away, you'll help create a surplus of Oreos that could possibly benefit a more needy individual.

Jolly Festivus, everyone. Let the Airing of Grievances begin!

Ah, the age-old boggle; how do you survive a holiday party without porking out on garbage food?

My second-favorite method is to place enough stuff on my plate to dissuade my adding anything else. How does that work? Well, I just make sure that it is stuff I would never eat; stuff I find so distasteful that if it were to touch something I would eat, I wouldn't eat it. Herring and cold lil' Smokies for example. I also make sure that I avoid high-carb drinks by sticking with water.

These props ensure that no one offers me more stuff to eat or drink simply because my plate and glass are full. With the pressure of abundantly available food and drink no longer a threat, I can focus on polishing my social skills.

We all know how much I enjoy that. Now what's your favorite way to avoid excess holiday calories?

With year-end baring its' nasty teeth, I find myself waxing nostalgic for the good old days. That's right, October, 2007.

It was a golden time. The leaves had mostly donned their fall colors but had yet to fall, the lawn had gone dormant, and the kids were completely back in school. It was a time when I could focus completely on the things I needed to do- almost distraction-free. It's the time of year when I am at my most focused and most productive- a happy time. Some people talk about their "happy place", I have my happy time.

All I want for Christmas is a year of daily happy time.

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My wife is chaperoning my daughter's school field trip today. While we were at the gym she mentioned that they both needed a sack lunch and would have to leave for school earlier than normal. Now understand that I am an incredibly anal-retentive and scheduled person. While I'm able to cope with whatever little emergency and plan changing event that comes along with calm, cool outward grace and aplomb, on the inside I'm a whirling quagmire of anxiety and contingency-calculating psychosis. By the time we had made it back from the gym I had gone through dozens of permutations and contingencies associated with preparing two nutritious and desirable sack lunches for two very finicky individuals within an abbreviated period of time with next to nothing in the house from which to create them.

When I set my mind to it I can make a mountain out of even the smallest mole hill but with equal applications of determination and massive action I was able to make some sandwiches from a loaf of frozen 12-grain I chiseled out of the freezer and a few leftovers while baking some protein cookies from some fairly atypical ingredients- sheerly on the fly. No recipes, no traditional (or obvious) ingredients and all within less than 45 minutes. A little fruit and they were on their way.

I'm sure none of this impresses anyone except me and only does so because a) I'm easily impressed and b) I'm prone to anxiety in the presence of chaos within my own personal microcosm of existence. Outside, I can cope with Armageddon but inside my world, each thing remains in its' place and the trains run on time. A morning a food-focused chaos is a recipe for distracted consumption of unnecessary calories. This is a leap of causality to be sure but hey, that's the fact, Jack.

Why the additional consumption? It's the way I cook. I drive by ear and I cook by taste-- it's a sensory thing. No recipes. Nada. It's chemistry you can eat- and have to taste to get it right. So there I am making cookies, getting the chemistry down so that the thermodynamic reactions will take place in a reliable fashion while tailoring the organics so that the final product is pleasing to the palate- and I've got 45 multitasked minutes to make it all happen. Some of it is going to end up in my mouth.

I'll bore you no further except to say that it all came together with minimal consumption and only moderate anxiety. Now the train is back on the tracks; next stop, my happy place (aka: where Order intersects Productivity).

Forty-one pounds to go!

Call me Scrooge but this is definitely not my most favorite time of year. I do like most but not all the family stuff and none of the commercialization. It's also my busiest time of year work-wise. That and the added anxiety that accompanies the realization that yet another year is quickly slipping away and I'm a mess. And then there are the parties!

I look at social gatherings as performance pieces. I don't know why it is, or how I came to be this way but I'm a completely different person at parties-- it's like I'm on stage doing some sort of improv shtick. And when it's over, I'm flat-out exhausted. Throw in appetizers and libation and I'm an unproductive steaming pile of goo come January. I'm getting anxious just thinking about it. (Where the hell did I put my happy place?)

We're expected at two parties this Friday and I'm seriously considering playing hooky. I've got so much to do and so little time left. Can I rationalize missing every party but the one we're hosting? It's oh so easily done--- and if I skip enough parties and ruffle enough feathers who knows, perhaps no one will come to ours.

Steve exits, stage left.

I'm feeling like throwing some prose; so here it goes...

Roses are red
Violets are blue.
The scale has been kind
And... what- geez! I'm no poet. I can barely complete a cohesive sentence. I swear, sometimes I think I can do anything I decide to do- just because I decide to do it. How nuts is that?

I mean really, what was I thinking when I decided I was going to lose 150 pounds before my next birthday? Certainly that was a ridiculous thing to set out to do. What if I fail? Why should I even try? Besides, I'm OK with how I look and feel and losing weight is soooo hard!

Pretty self-defeating attitude, huh? An attitude like that practically guarantees failure or at best, stagnancy.

Whether you think you can or you think you can't, you're probably right.

Will I lose all the weight I've set out to lose? Yes. Absolutely. I will because I know that with enough effort and tenacity I can accomplish any worthy goal. Losing this weight is a worthy goal.

This weight I'll lose,
I know I will.
And I'll do it
Without program or pill.
One hundred fifty pounds,
A worthy goal.
And steady loss
Through self-control
Is all I need
To see it through.
Arrive in June
A thinner me.
A fitter man
For all to see.
Steve four-point-six
Is losing weight.
Becoming a fitter, stronger,
Version four-point-er-uh-seven.

OK, OK. I never made becoming a poet one of my goals. I'm focusing on the weight loss thing.

I haven't asked Santa or anyone else for anything in a long, long time. Today I make an exception.

So, my dear Santa, I direct your attention to a little something special that is sure to bring a smile to my face well, forever. I'm talking about the Human Touch HT 7450 Zero Gravity Massage Chair. Imagine getting a soothing therapeutic massage without having to expose your derrière to some judgmental waif with cold hands and an axe to grind. The more I read about this chair, the more I imagine you'd like one for yourself. Just imagine for yourself how a couple hours of expert-like rolling and kneading will feel against your back after a long night of hefting that sack and cramming yourself down chimneys. Imagine one of these babies positioned just-so in front of the tube on a cold wintry night. What could be finer than a full massage during a three-term fire fight of Halo 3? What do you say we quit imagining and make it a reality?

Think it over Big Guy. Check your list- I'm sure I've been nice.

BFF

Steve v4.6

* This post sponsored by Human Touch *

Down a solid 107 pounds as of this morning! I might not have made the discovery had the bleachers not been coated with a sheet of ice. Thanks for the boost Ma Nature!

What began as a nice run over to the track turned into a decent gym day today. I did a solid 30 minutes on the stair machine to make up for the frozen bleachers and then went on to a full circuit around the machines. Seeing the scale dipping lower gave me a little more pep than I usually have on a Saturday and the run back home was nice and dry.

What a great way to start the day!

I've been enjoying the symptoms of a cold/flu bug that's been going around. Just the symptoms mind you, I refuse to succumb to any invader- viral or otherwise. That's just the way I am. I've stuck to my exercise regimen despite feeling like crappy crap-- which actually makes me feel better while I am doing it. Icky-ness returns when I stop which makes me wish I had some sort of hamster wheel in my office just to keep the ick at bay.

And what a rat-ba$tard the scale has been this week! Oi feh! Wow- sorry. That's just the flu-like symptoms talking. I've been snacking a little more than normal this week- my wife went to a cookie-exchange party the other day and well, there you go.

I'm actually feeling better than I have in a few days and am regaining focus. My primary focus is going to be on what I'm eating and when. This time of year seems to throw off everyone's schedule and today I'm bringing back the sanity- or the insanity depending on your point of view. No more meals after 7pm (it's been as late as 9pm) and a more even spread- just like what was working for me in the beginning of this weight loss journey. Which makes me wonder why I tend to deviate from what's working when it so obviously IS working. Man, I am so complex. (NOT! Symptoms talking again.)

Kudos and thanks to all of you who inspire me to continue on (JohnisFit, ScaleJunkie, Fabulous@50, FatManUnleashed, and so many others).

Sometimes it's Titanic versus iceberg in the battle of the bulge; neither one moves very fast and I either reach my destination, or I'm sunk. The key is to pick up speed and plow on through no matter how many obstacles stand between me and my goals. Obstacles come in many forms: holiday gatherings, office parties, baking binges, hectic schedules, and winter colds/flu. All these and more can sink weight loss efforts.

The question is, WILL they?

I say no. No to overindulgence. No to skipping the gym. I say yes to keeping up the energy and going full-steam-ahead. I plan on greeting the new year a little lighter and a little thinner.

Well it was close enough to call it- I've gained a pound since Friday. I've scratched my head to the bone and the bone to the brain and here's what I've come up with:

1) It's accumulated rainwater from the run over to the gym
2) Someone tampered with the scale
3) Pockets full of wishes and dreams
4) Damp belly button lint
5) Additional pantry reps developed an extra pound of table muscle
6) Weight of responsibility
7) I haven't unpacked the bags under my eyes
8) Let's just say, “I need a haircut all over”

Here's the real deal. I was completely off schedule this weekend and that threw off my eating. Instead of eating my usual 6 small meals, I averaged just two or three larger, less nutritionally balanced meals since Friday. So what amounted to a weekend of binging paid off (in a bad way) at the scale this morning.

I've climbed back on the meal wagon this morning, did some extra stuff at the gym, and am refocused. I don't believe that extra pound is going to stick around for very long.

Snow on the bleachers this morning made for a treacherous workout. That added element of danger was unnerving at first but somehow made the whole experience exhilarating. I kept flashing on images of my size 14 running shoes slipping out from under me only to convert my 6'5” frame into a lifeless meat-toboggan, launching from the top landing of the stadium and ultimately crashing in a heap of steaming goo somewhere along the 50 yard line. Good times. Good times.

I only slipped about four times and managed to keep things under control and less than embarrassing for the entire six laps. If it gets any worse I'll probably be tempted to move indoors (ugh). Whatever the conditions, I'll keep on keeping on. I'd love to hit my goal weight by the end of March- which may be a little ambitious considering June is my target.

One day at a time.