They take my voice and they feed my eyes, all I read is a bed of lies

I was bad yesterday eating, as I thought I'd be. Not horrific (I did stop from downing some mint chocolate chip Pop Tarts) but still, I had a lot to eat at dinner with Holly. We ate at Casbah, where we had some grilled flatbread and 3 different kinds of hummus for appetizer, then I had some fantastic pasta in a red sauce with some homemade sweet Italian sausage. Man, was that fantastic!

I also took yesterday off from running, as I only want to run 5 times a week and don't want a two day break. So this morning, I got up and ran 2.1 miles. Feel great right now, as I just finished a few minutes ago.

I feel a bit more confident that I can do this, unlike the past few months when I thought I'd have a heart attack if I got back onto the treadmill. This is great news to me.

I do think the eating part is going to be more difficult. I seemed to be fine for a day or two, but even Wednesday, I had a bit more than I had planned on, and last night, I didn't have the drive to just order a healthy salad or grilled chicken. I wanted that pasta, and nothing was stopping me. And a loaf of fresh French bread. And a Heineken. And a helping of her sorbet. And those chips at work.

But what made me feel good was getting up today and running so effortlessly. Even last night, I felt like I'd failed again, but it all came back so naturally this morning. Get up, put on running shorts shoes and get on the treadmill. It would have been perfect, except I've been watching what has to be the worst movie in the world, Chumscrubber. I bought it for a dollar at a garage sale, but I don't think it is worth that much! Oh well, live and learn.

The road outside my house is paved with good intentions

3 days, 30 minutes on the treadmill each day. Not too bad for a tub o' goo. Good thing I don't hold grudges, eh?

Today seemed a little tougher as I had some cramps while running. It makes it more painful, but, as the blog says, no pain, no gain. I just kept going until I was in pain, then I'd slow it down for a while and start back up. I figure a couple of weeks and I will be back to at least running for the 30 minutes instead of some walking interspersed.

I ate well today, though maybe a few extra crunchy snacks at work. Tomorrow is going to be tough as I have a dinner with a friend for her birthday, and we are going to a nice restaurant. I know I will be tempted by all the good foods and an appetizer, but I will try to keep it simple and healthy. We shall see.

Life has just been bopping along regularly now, and that is alright with me. I thought I was in a rut just before the accident, and then I learned what a real rut was.

Gary called me today and harassed me about weight training. I understand that he thinks this is the best way to go, and he did give me his old BowFlex a few years ago that has just languished in my parents basement, but I don't think I can do it right now, for more reasons than just laziness.

I hurt my left shoulder on the last day of softball, and lifting it above my head is painful. There are many times at work that I go to get some text off the shelf and almost drop it. I know this sounds like an excuse, but I'm going to give it a few weeks before I even think about bringing the BowFlex to my house and starting to use it.

Also, I want to lose some weight with my running before I get into weight training. This sounds like a cop-out to Gary, and maybe it is, but I want to do what I know and get comfortable in that before I start expanding. With Gary being so motivated, I don't think he understands that it takes the fatter of us (i.e. Tubs o' Goo) a bit more than to just think "weight training would be great" and then we do it. I spent most of my adult life being extremely sedentary, and to just jump into something new is not only scary, if I don't like it, I might just stop doing it. And I don't want that to happen.

So for the foreseeable future, it will be running and eating healthier. Once I think I've relearned that, then I can look into the weight training. And Gary will be gone to England in 2 weeks, so he can stop bothering me. I'd think about lying to him and say I was weight training (literally, about every second phone call with Gary involves him trying again and again to explain to me that weight training is a better, more efficient way to lose weight. Really gets tiring at times) but he reads this blog, and as much as I might want to, I just don't want to lie on this blog.

By the way, the title is from a Fall Out Boy song, and is meant to be an inside joke. I love inside jokes.

I don't need a reason not to care what you say, or what happened in the end. This is my interpretation, and it don't, don't make sense.

Day two and I have run both days. Yesterday I ran 1.85 miles, and today 2.1. Not bad at all, though I will admit I wasn't running my hardest, but getting back into the swing of things is important. Slight headache this morning, but that might have been either not getting enough sleep or sleeping wrong. Either way, I took two tylenol and got back on after work.

I've eated well the past two days. That seems to be the hardest part right now, as I want to continue to eat what I want. I hit just under 1600 calories yesterday and will hit just above it today. The first day seems to be the easiest for me, but the second day is the killer.

I so wanted to start a new blog and call it "Tub o' Goo," but I think that would be more self pity, and I want to avoid that right now. To be honest, that is what has gotten me into the gooey state that I am in.

I have spent most of the time since the accident feeling sorry for myself. I know that is ridiculous. I was so extremely lucky not to have been hurt worse, much worse. Hell, of the three people in our car, I got off the luckiest. A few staples, some brain damage and whiplash isn't too bad considering how fast the fucker was going that hit us head-on coupled with the fact that I wasn't wearing a seatbelt.

So forward I look, to a bright future. My health and my attitude affected my softball team and we didn't do too well this season. I know the whole team’s effort doesn't rest on my shoulders, but a few better hits and better defended fly balls by me in the outfield could have made a world of difference. I want next year to be different. I thought about not playing next year to not give myself added pressure, but I want to play, and play better.

Nothing else going on in my little corner of the world, so I should be able to focus on my health. In reading that book, I found out that my omentum is what I need to focus on getting rid of first. This is what has given me my "tub o' goo" look. Once I can get that into order, I can really start the process of shaving the fat off of other places.

I feel better about this than I have for months. And being determined is a great start.

Tub o' Goo out!

You don’t want to turn into a tub of goo

Normally, the titles of my entries are from songs, movies or books. This one, however, is from real life. My real life. Said about me.

The other day, I was downtown Pittsburgh, waiting for a friend to show up so we could go to a concert at Mellon Arena. As I stood on the corner, about 10 feet from me was a man and a woman. The man clearly worked out; even though he was wearing a suit, you could tell he had a nice chest.

I was being nosy and kind of listening to the conversation, as he was talking to the woman, who looked to be about mid-30’s, about her need to exercise as well as eat healthier. He seemed healthy and I thought I’d see what he had to say.

And that is when he nodded his head to his right, in my direction with no one else in the area, and said “You don’t want to turn into a tub of goo.”

Now, I know I’m paranoid about my weight, but there is no doubt in my mind that he was directing this comment my way. I looked at him and said “WHAT??” The woman got red faced and turned away and the guy stumbled through a comment “Uh, I, uh, wasn’t talking about you.”

I would have said something else to him, but I think I would have burst into tears. I was so angry and ashamed at that moment. And this is the third time in my life someone has said something negative & hurtful about my weight.

One time about 3 years ago, Gary & I were shooting pool at a gay bar. (If I haven’t explained this before, Gary is a good looking guy who works out and, therefore, has a nice physique.) There was a room behind the main bar that was closed off so you could get away from the loud music and talk to someone, and obviously there was a pool table. These four good-looking men came in and sat at the corner of the bar. The bar is L-shaped with a brick pillar at the corner of the L, and I was on one side of the pillar, these guys at the other side of it. One guy who had his back on the pillar said something about the cute guy shooting pool. Another one asked which guy, and, as all of them listened in, the first guy said “Not the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.” Between Gary & I, only one could ever be considered The stay Puft Marshmallow Man. (Considering they were younger, I was slightly impressed with the reference to the 1984 movie Ghostbusters. Also, it seems that in pop culture, a reference to the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man can mean something that people assume is harmless - I mean, look at him on the left, so soft and gooey and friendly looking, but is really menacing and evil in the right circumstances, just like me. I should have sat on the fucker when he said that!)

Then, another time out with Gary shortly after the Marshmallow Man incident, some guy was talking to him and I was next to them. The guy asked Gary why he had brought his straight friend, and when Gary said I wasn’t straight, the guy said “I didn’t know gay guys were that fat.”

Those earlier incidents helped me decide to start running. And this new one will help fuel me now. I got up this morning at 248.5 lbs. Tomorrow, I will eat better and, at the least, be on the treadmill for 30 minutes. I don’t want to be thought of as “too fat to be gay,” or the “Stay Puft Marshmallow Man,” or a “Tub of goo.”