The Right Side of 2

Greetings and salutations my friends and fat followers! I am contacting you today from the other side. No, I am not dead and this is not a creepy seance. I'm talking about the other side of 200 pounds. That's right baby. I finally cracked the elusive 200 number. Mark the date and time fat fans, for this is the first time since the mid 80's that I have had a 1 in front of my weight. This is BIG news indeed. I finally feel like I am accomplishing something.

You may ask "What The H, Johnny. You've lost 56 pounds and you don't fell like you accomplished anything? You've lost half of a person, why the lack of satisfaction?"

Here's why. When you're a scale bustin fatass as I was in April, losing a few pounds here or there is no big deal. My weight used to fluctuate five pounds on any given week depending on how many buffets I hit. Lose 10 pounds. So what. Lose 20 pounds. I'll hardly notice. 30 pounds. That's something, but I was still in the "Biggun" category. Forty pounds ... 50 pounds, great. But what really makes me feel like I'm winning is that 1. Normal people have a 1 in front of their weight. That's the answer. I am approaching NORMAL. Soon to be average. Now THAT means something!

As I previously alluded, I have not had that 1 in front of my weight since the mid 80's. The exact date I busted the deuce mark is not clear to me. Matter of fact, the whole decade is not too clear to me. I was awash in self indulgence. My never ending search for a good time is what got me started on this path to bodily destruction. But that's another story for a different time. So let's use these dates. I remember going on some type of diet and getting down to around 165 pounds. I had a picture taken at this time leaning on a new Delorean. That makes it 1982. Obviously that diet didn't take. It took me a few years to work up the weight ladder. I'm pretty sure it was a chicken wing at a Super Bowl 19 party that pushed me over. That would make it 1985.

1985 - It was a very good year. (I think.) Reagan was still president. Gas was $1.09 a gallon and it only cost $3 to see a movie. Michael Jordon was just a pup and the Bears were stocked with now legendary names like, Fridge, Hamp, Mongo, Mama's Boy and the Punky QB. Things were bouncing back from the dog days of Jimmy Carter and 22% interest rates. There was reason to celebrate. And celebrate I did. Nightly. And usually to excess. I was living the single life. Fast money, fast cars and fast women. Unfortunately, fast food was a daily staple. My bodily empire was beginning to fall and I didn't heed the warnings. The 2 came a lot easier on the way up then the 1 did on the way down.

Let's leave the maudlin memories behind. It's a new day, a new age and a new Johnny. I have lost about 56 pounds since April 9. My weekly weight loss is still averaging about 1.5 pounds per week. I know it's going to get slower as my under metabolized body adjusts to my lower calorie intake. But if I could average 1.25 pounds per week, I will hit hit my goal by March. I planned on this taking one full year. I am on schedule. But just think. What if I kept that Delorean? Maybe I could have got up to 88 miles per hour and zapped my way back to 1982. If only I knew then what I know now.

So Long for now. We'll talk soon.

Johnny T.

Prickly Plateau

Yup. I'm stuck. Not the lap band "I need to toss my cookies" stuck. Weight stuck. I have reached a weight number that I cannot seem to bust through. If you look this phenonenom up in the FatAss World Dictionary, Volume 17, Second Edition, you will find that this is called a plateau.

A plateau for the over active metabolism crowd, is a nice place. The top of a mountain perhaps. Where you can gaze at beautiful vistas and see for miles. A plateau for the overly girthed is quite another matter. It's a tortuous place that plays with your emotions. It's a place that reminds you that your journey ain't easy. In fact, it reminds you that the road in front of you is only going to get harder. Moving off this plateau is metabolism over mind. Sometimes it's just out of your control. It's part of the process. I don't plan on pitching my tent and staying on this plateau. I plan on moving on as fast as possible. So I'll soldier on. Head down, focused on the goal.

Being stuck is about as frustrated as you can get in a weight loss campaign. Here you are doing everything right. Following the same plan that has worked for you for months with good results. Only to get kicked in the nuts with your daily or weekly scale visit. In my case, it's daily. I weigh my self every morning. For the last 10 days or so, my weight has fluctuated back and forth about a pound and a half either way. A couple days ago, I hit the low end and I thought "this is it. I'm gonna break this mark tomorrow." Only when tomorrow came, I bounced back up a pound. ARRGHHH! If my ultra high tech FitBit scale didn't cost so much, I would have flung it out the window. So I kicked it. (Note to self: Kicking your scale hurts and can only do bodily damage. Please refrain from hostile acts of aggression towards said device in the future. Resort to colorful language instead.)

This is also doubly frustrating for me. Why? Because my low weight right now is 200.4 pounds. I have been waiting to get that 1 in front of my weight number. I'm as excited as a kid on Christmas eve to hit that mark. Come to think of it, I'm probably more excited. Hell, a kid only has to wait one year for Christmas. I haven't had a 1 in front of my weight since ... well, I know I still had a record player. I'll have to do some research on this. Suffice to say, it's been a LONG friggin time. So here I sit ... on the door step of a personal milestone. I can only hope that I will break through this barrier by next Monday. If you want to be there for the breaking news. Stand outside my bathroom window around 6:30 a.m. If you don't see a FitBit scale flying through the glass, you know I made it. If not, DUCK!

I will report back from the other side of 2.

Johnny

F. A.

Hi ya'll!

I'm fresh off a 4 day weekend and wanted to get you the up to the minute Johnny news. C'mon, be honest.... how many of you just can't wait for your fanatical fat fix? I thought so.  This blog is like an auto race.  Most of the spectators just come for the crashes. At the very least, I am a cheap version of a reality show. Your own personal rendition of Biggest Loser. Or Survivor. Hey, I got an idea ... What if we combine both of those shows? Let's strand a bunch of fat asses in the middle of no where with no food and the potty mouthed TV chef Paula Dean. We'll call it Fattasy Island. My bet, 7 contestants arrive, only 5 leave. The other 2 will be enjoyed with a homemade tropical marinade. No doubt this will be a huge hit. 

On to the news.

Last Monday I went for monthly follow up visit at the center for Fat-ass-i-ness. As reported last week, I officially hit the 50 pound loss point. Yippee! I have to tell you that I am starting to look and feel a little out of place in the waiting area. I am no longer the short, overly swelled man that enjoyed the extra comfort of the fat ass chairs. I am now just a short, plump man that looks like a little kid sitting in a big chair. Add the fact that I usually wear a suit and tie on Mondays. The waiting wobblers probably think I'm some kind of creepy sales person waiting to show Dr. X my new drugs. But sitting and waiting is part of my commitment. It is part of my rehab. Yup. Rehab. Because that's really what this is. Fataholic's Anonymous. My name is Johnny ... and I'm a fataholic.

Anyone that reads this, and definitely anyone that tries this, must realize what a significant weight loss project really is. It's a full time commitment to food sobriety. Without full dedication to the cause, you are doomed to fail. "Just one Oreo" can be as catastrophic to a fataholic as "just one beer" to the alcoholic. That first step backwards can lead to a tumble. The end of the binge is just as devastating for both. Self consciousness, loss, shame, failure. All the same buzz words. The alcoholic may end his bender in a a tavern with a shot and a beer in the wee hours of the morning. The fataholic may end up in a corner with a jumbo bag of Dorito's and jar of salsa. Self inflicted wounds for both.

The fataholic requires guidance just like his counterpart. We get all the information we need to succeed from our nutritionists, shrinks and doctors. But at the end of the day, it is still on you to watch and motivate yourself. You have to make constant decisions to succeed. Food is not only required to live,it is part of our culture. Think about it. Just about every social gathering includes food. A nice night out with your better half probably includes dinner. A business lunch includes food. Weddings, birthday parties, anniversaries, bar mitzvahs ... you name a social gathering and there will be food. And plenty of it.

How about our addiction to Fat Ass TV? There are several channels that air nothing but food shows 24/7. Then you have Masterchef, Iron Chef,Top Chef and a myriad of other kitchen shows. There is a guy that drives around the country and pigs out at out of the way diners. There are guys that fix broken restaurants and a guy that spies on various eatery's employees. If has to do with food, there is a TV show about it. And these chefs / stars get paid humongous salaries for this! I'm really in the wrong business.

It's easy to see how someone can lose sight of a healthy lifestyle and fall in to the grips of fatness in our country today. Once you get there, going back is bitch. It's a challenge every minute to stay on your selected program.  It's a good thing I have my sober coaches to guide me ... good ol' Al C. Hall and his cousin Vinny Vino.

See you soon..

Johnny

PS I'm at a little plateau here.  The weight loss is slowing down to around a pound per week.  I'm going to have to change something up here next week.