Well, atleast they were trying to be helpful. May 13, 2008
The cats ate my cake. Little well-intentioned monsters. Probably for the best. I had only eaten 3/4 of it all on my own in the last 18 hourss.
So… the last few weeks have been complete debauchery. I’m not going to go over the gory details. But, I can give the sad statistics. This morning I finally reached 200 pounds. And, two weekends ago I realized I’m currently unattractive to the opposite sex. Last weekend I finally found that I don’t find myself attractive. Ouch. I mean, I’m married, so I wouldn’t stand a chance with myself even if I was still cute. But, still.
Oddly enough, I really didn’t have any emotional reaction to the traumatic turn of events. I didn’t feel an immediate need to hop on a treadmill, or, conversely, drown my sorrows and the totality of my failure in food. I don’t feel disgusted, or repulsed, angered, or motivated. I guess I really just feel resigned. I know what I need to do. I know how to do it. I know a million and seventy reasons why I should do it. I just haven’t done it. But, it’s time for me to stop waiting to feel motivated. I need to accept that I’m rarely, if ever, going to wake up and think “ooh wouldn’t it be great to stick to a sensible eating plan and exercise regimen today!” Let’s face it, I will never like riding a bike to nowhere as much as I like eating. Especially eating things that are dangerous to my cardiac health. And with those things in mind, I need to quit waiting for that to change. I need to quit waiting to feel motivated.
And so, I’ve decided to just do it. No gimmicks, no rewards, no special goals. Atleast not for now. For right now, working out and eating right is just a part of my life. An eventuality like death and taxes (equally as enjoyable as well)
I’d have more to say, something postive, insightful, or funny. But, it’s late, I’m tired, and I weigh 200 pounds. We’ll try again tomorrow.
