I Ate This Summer

Today's Weight: 196

Goal Weight: 175

Ok, so I'm the worst dieter. 10 pounds in 9 months is nothing to blow up balloons and celebrate for. It's more of something I'd rather not talk about. I'd rather throw a double-cheezy Mcdouble in my mouth and tell everyone I've stopped trying than tell anyone I Really want to lose weight but have managed only 10 pounds in 9 months. But then here I am blogging about it.

Let me tell you about my summer:

I work at a group home that goes camping three times a summer. I only get to go on one of the trips, so the rest of the time I just have off. Sounds awesome (and it is), but what can you do with 37 days off in a summer when you aren't getting paid and don't really have a lot of money saved just so you can blow it on 37 days off? I actually did a lot. This has been the best summer since those summers that lasted a lifetime while I was still a scrawny 8- 13 year-old.

I went on 4 different road trips (if you include work), all of which included numerous stops at all kids of shops and gas stations which seemed to be void of anything healthy. Though I probably spent next to no time looking for apples or rice cakes while I was desperately trying to find a flavor of chips I wasn't tired of yet or picking out the undoubtedly homemade brownies gas stations are always finding and slapping price tags on.

Twice we had friends visit from Alberta. So of course we're not going to feed them all of our organic spices and lettuce. We're going to take them out to fatty restaurants so they can eat that horrible food rather than hog all of our healthy stuff that we eat (whether you believe it or not).

3 of the road trips were to go camping. Everyone knows camping is hot-dogs and marshmallows and burgers and sunflower-seeds and Cheezies and bacon and trips into town for McDonald's or Starbucks or Coke. So you walk around thinking about what you're going to cook for lunch, then you eat lunch, then you start wondering what you're going to grill for supper, then you eat supper, then you eat bedtime snacks, then you sleep and wake up to make breakfast, then you eat breakfast. Plus you can't go without stopping at all those stupid ice cream stores to test their wares or the chocolate factories or the 711's.

In other words: I ate this summer.

I think a couple blogs ago I wrote of how I was losing weight just by eating when I'm hungry and stopping when I'm full. Well... Evidently, it doesn't work that well (10 in 9). But back then I had it wrong, and I'm just beginning to figure it out. I really don't like to get all religious in my blog, but as this is (supposed to be) a blog about losing weight AND this is how I'm learning to lose weight, I'm gonna go ahead and be religious.

Yes, I eat when I'm hungry and stop when I'm full. BUT I have to fill that desire I have to eat - which, if anyone has read any of my blog, is quite something - with something else. Normal diets suggest working-out or starving or sipping herbal tea or getting a calculator and counting all the calories you've eaten, but the 'diet' my wife and I have started suggests replacing it with God.

Ridiculous, right? I thought so. Why would God really care about what we're eating. He says everything is clean so we should go eat whatever we want. Thousands of fat people have good relationships with God, I'm sure of it. Even preachers have a pound here or there they could get rid of. Why do I have to share my Twinkies with God?

Well it's simple. So far, it's been far from easy, but it's simple. God desires us more than anything. We should desire him more than anything. When we actually put him first and find satisfaction through him, we don't need Cheeseburger Doritoes while we're watching Star Wars.

As a home-grown, run-of-the-mill Christian, I've always heard we need to put God first in our lives. I think the lesson I'm learning right now, though, is stuffing the truth of it down my throat, and it's filling me up and helping me to throw the last quarter of my Double Baconator in garbage and thinking 'I probably will survive without it.' No, I think more than that. I think, 'I'm a lot better off without it.'

Of course, I'm not perfect. I expect later this week I'll sneak off to Sparky's pizza and eat an extra large on my own in the corner while the rest of the place sneaks little peeks out of the corner of their eyes. But I'll feel really rotten after, and I won't enjoy it. Because I know now that food is not the Holy Grail I seem to think it is. I need food to keep living. I don't need food in order to love the life I'm living.

It's such a freeing thing. Perhaps not everyone has this attachment to food, but I certainly do. Those dates with my wife where I think it's going to be SO fun cause we're going to The Keg and I'm going to get a 10 oz. steak and those heavenly mashed potatoes, or the trips to see my friends where I say 'we should go to McDonald's at midnight! Remember when we used to do that in High-school?' or when I can't wait for the next stop on our 4 hour drive so I can get out to stretch my stomach with another chocolate bar, these can all be enjoyed WAY more if the focus isn't on food.

I can just love being with my wife because we don't get to do things on our own very often anymore. We can laugh and talk and love each other without that brick sitting in the bottom of our bellies. I can just enjoy reminiscing with my friends without worrying if I'm going to puke up my McChickens. I can make it in 3 hours instead of 4 because I don't NEED those stops. And I can look at that way because I've found the satisfaction I need through God.

For a long time, Food = Fun for me. That may sound gross to some people. You may not believe some could be that way, but that's how I was. Thinking about it, I feel like I should be about 12 hundred pounds, like they should have video cameras in my room so they can watch me try to get all my friends to bring me some donuts. But I'm not that fat, and really I only have about 20 pounds to lose. So I feel lucky.

I can't wait til I'm at my goal weight and Mark Wahlberg is asking me to hang out, til my son wants to play catch for 7 hours and I can say, "Why not 8?" I can't wait til I'm 94 and could canoe across Wascana Lake if I wanted (as if I'd want to), til my kids are getting married and they have me there to celebrate with them, til my kids have kids and I can run around the house making just as much noise as they are so that no-one else can hear the TV.

What I mean to say is: I'm glad I'm starting to Love Life instead of Double-Cheezies. I hope you are too...

Thanks for reading

Personality Flaw

Tonight, I had one of those moments during which, for a split-second, you can step outside yourself and take a look at what the people around you are staring at. I was playing a board-game at a birthday party. And I was getting way too into it. All of a sudden my wife looks at me from across the room and says something like 'take it easy.' This only annoyed me at the time, but after -right after- I looked around and saw the expressions on most people's faces saying similar things: 'Please don't hit me,' I'm pretty sure one's said. 'You're such a retard,' Maxx's said. 'Isn't this supposed to be fun? I'm getting scared. You're a psycho. I'm going outside. Take It Easy.'

I'm competitive. I remember my sisters being terrified of me when I was playing nintendo and I ran that little red plumber off the edge into the bottomless pit, or that stupid little puppy dog stuck his head out from the bushes to giggle when I missed the ducks. I just wanted to chuck my controller through the TV. Sometimes I tried. I remember breaking my hockey stick across my best friend's back, because he had been slashing my shins... during a recess hockey game. I'm pretty sure my wrist is still swollen from when I punched the stage during a basketball game at Luther High School. Thinking about it now, I'm embarrassed. Every time I do think of these things, I shake my head and say to myself, "I'm so glad you're not like that now."

I am like that now. At the party, we watched the hockey game. My favorite team, the Chicago Blackhawks, were playing. They're the heavy favorites and should win the final. But they were playing lousy. They let in three crap goals and looked like they were nowhere near as good as the Flyers. Anyway... others were cheering against them, nothing was going there way, they were going to lose the second game in a row, And I was having a hard time not standing up and ripping my Blackhawks T-shirt off and screaming all kinds of crazy things. I don't even know what I would have said, so I'm glad there were people there I felt I couldn't exactly show that side of myself to. Anyway, the game ended. There's always next game, so I calmed down pretty quick.

They bust the board-games out. My memory is so short, I don't even think about how riled up I had been ten minutes earlier and I think to myself, "This is going to be a friggen blast." And it was a blast. No matter how worked up I get or seem during boardgames, I'm always having fun. Of course I want to win, but it's fun for me even if I'm not. Even if I glare a hole through the wall.

The only thing is... Everyone else is afraid of me. My wife reminds me of this after every game session. And I try to explain that I'm having fun even when I'm being competitive, but she said tonight, "You might feel like you're having fun. But nobody else would believe it. When you're yelling or trying to make a point, you seem scary."

She's right and that sucks. I can see it on people's faces and I want ever so badly to be that guy sitting on the side, sipping some tea and saying 'oh, great job' to everyone on the other teams, but it takes every ounce of self-control I have to sit back in my chair and force myself to relax. If I lose focus for a second, my face turns green and I think a horn starts growing out of my forehead. It doesn't take long for me to lose focus.

I'm not sure what the point of this blog is really. I'm afraid it's not as funny or as clever as some, but I knew I had to write something down, or I'd think about it all night.

I like boardgames. I like watching hockey. I love winning. I hate losing. But if you've ever beat me at something -cards, nintendo, a Provincial Championship Basketball game, anything- and I've seemed angry and you thought maybe I was going to hit you, you should know that I've never done anything like that. I don't even think about that stuff. It's impossible to describe, but I'm not mad at any single person. I'm just frustrated. But I have forgotten about all of it within 10 minutes of finishing.

So don't worry. Don't feel like you have to let me win or you shouldn't play games with me. I'm gonna try my best to 'take it easy' while I play. But if you see a vein popping or if I pick up the coffee table and slam it over my head, don't take it personally. It's just a major personality flaw I'm working on.

Thanks for reading.

Sorry Megan for ruining the game.

Blahg Blahg Blahg

Today's Weight: 198 lbs

Goal Weight: 175 lbs

I watched Julie and Julia. You've probably seen it or, at least, heard of it. It's about two women. One wrote a cookbook. One wrote a blog and then got published and wrote a book or two. That's the very gist of it.

In the movie, it makes it seem so easy for Julie or Julia -whichever one writes the blog- to write a blog. She sits at the computer, flips her hair or scratches her head, then wriggles her fingers around and an elegant, perfectly organized blog comes spewing forth. When she's excited, she speaks extra fast, with a smile in her voice, and you end up getting excited. When she's angry, she tells a story of why she's angry without giving too much detail so if you weren't watching the movie but were just reading her blog you wouldn't know she was angry because of a fight with her husband, but you would totally believe she had a very valid reason for being angry. She made it look so easy! I know it was a movie and she practiced lines and had someone write it all for her, but it still looked easy.

It made me think I could start a blog, promise myself and whoever read it that I'd write something every day and then actually sit down to write something every day. Well, if you have been reading my blog, you would see that I have not written every day.

One thing I have learnt about blogging: It's Hard.

You can't -I can't- just sit down and wriggle my fingers. It takes me for bloody ever to think of a topic, then I gotta think of something to say about it, then I gotta think of a clever way of saying it. Plus there's titles and all of that. Plus you have to have time to sit and write. There's this and that, there's blahg blahg blahg...I could go on and on. It's hard. This is only my second installment this year, for Pete's sake.

Insert: At least a five minute montage with some kind of slow, slightly depressing song. Think of everything worth doing. Think of everything you've ever been proud of. An A+, a song you wrote, a website you built, some weight you've lost, some muscles you've built, a mustache you've grown.

One thing I've learnt about Everything worth doing: It's Hard.

As you can see by today's weight. I have lost a whopping 8 pounds since I started blahging almost seven months ago. (Which reminds me...Whoppers are on sale today... Oh, no, yesterday. Just kidding. But seriously) 8 pounds. It makes me wanna throw something thinking of how hard it is to lose weight.

I think my problem is simple. I like to eat. I like to eat good food all day long. I can try these diets or try to stop eating good food or try to run for hours, but when it comes down to it, I like to eat. Too much. I even have friends telling me they know it's time to eat cause 'Tim is getting grumpy.' I know, I know; I'm making myself sound like a crazed little piggy, but I'm working on it.

I'm trying a new thing. I actually think it's kind of revolutionary. It's not my idea, I got it from a book. But I tried cardio. Watching what I eat. Skipping meals. Organic turkey bites. Dressingless salad. Dressing less tightly. But nothing worked, until I started this. It's still going slow, cause, again, it's not easy. It's Hard.

The trick is this: Eat When You are Hungry; Stop Eating When You are Full.

Queue: Beatles, 'Revolution'

It sounds ridiculous, as if I'm a crazy person for thinking this might work, but if you actually follow the signals of your body, it tells you when to eat and when to stop. Like Derby, when he wants to eat, he cries until we make him something to eat. (Same as Tim getting grumpy) Then he eats until his little tummy is full, and he tells us -usually by crying again- that he's done. I have bad days, days where I pretend I'm hungry and keep eating just cause it's what I love doing or cause Chelsee made a something awesome and I just don't want to stop eating. But I also have good days, days where I totally pay attention to the signals, stop as soon as I'm satisfied, only start when I'm 100% hungry. And I've lost 8 pounds. But I still eat whoppers and cheese and chips, and I drink 2% milk, chocolate milk even. I have pizza and ice cream and all kinds of candy. Haven't worked out for months. And I've lost 8 pounds. It's revolutionary.

8 pounds is nothing to shake a stick at. Times it by 5, and maybe we can do a little dance or something, but it's a start.

Anyway, I started blahgging today to basically make excuses for why I'm not doing it every day. Because it's hard. But I've kind of realized, in the past half-hour, that everything we do that's worth being proud of is hard. What's to be proud of if it's not hard? If it was easy to lose weight, nobody would care to do it. If it was easy to write songs or books or poems or blahgs, who would care? If was easy to make a child, have a child, rear a child, who would stand up in front of strangers to say 'that's my boy! This is my daughter, so and so. She just got a new job. My son's going to college on scholarship. He's writing a book. My daughter plays the piano." No body would care about anything if everyone could do it without breaking a sweat.

So I'm glad it's hard. I'm glad I've been fluctuating between 198 and 202 for the past 3 weeks. I'm glad Derby throws tantrums whenever grandpa leaves the room. I'm glad Chelsee and I still sometimes argue about who's turn it is for dishes. I'm glad Maxx says and does things that make me think he's a big idiot sometimes. I'm glad it's taken me almost a year to write a novel and it's not even half done. I'm glad my beard is all patchy even though I'm 25 and I've been growing it out since the start of playoffs (Go Blackhawks). If these things weren't true, losing weight, being a dad, a husband, a friend, a future-award-winning author, growing a killer beard would be easy.

And I would have nothing in my life to be proud about.

As it is, though, I think I'm doing all right.

Thanks for reading.

New Year's Suggestions

New Year's Resolutions:

1 January 2005: None - I got married. I felt like my life had been resolved.

1 January 2006: Work out. Get Skinny. - Fail.

1 January 2007: Work out. Get Skinny. - Fail.

Read 52 books in a year. - Success.

1 January 2008: Finish writing my book. - Fail. Never wrote a word.

Read 20 books. Success.

Read the New Testament. - Fail. Maybe halfway.

Quit drinking pop. - Utter Failure.

Lose 25 pounds. - Fail. Lost 20 before gaining 30.

Make and keep a budget. - Fail.

1 January 2009: Don't make New Year's resolutions. - Fail.

Work out. Get Skinny. - Fail.

As is evident from my list, I have a very low success rate when it comes to New Year's resolution. Indeed, the only ones that have been successful were things that I most likely would have done anyway. Something about making them automatically sets me up for failure. It's kind of like dieting... As soon as I diet, it's the last thing I want to do. As soon as I make a resolution, I feel like someone is bossing me, like there's now some kind of immovable bondage holding me down.

It used to be that I didn't even bother with them. When you're young you don't need to resolve anything. You can just be an idiot teenager and it has minimal affect on anything. New Year's comes, and all you think about is how you've kept your streak alive: 16 years without a New Year's kiss.

But you start getting older. You lose your patented six-pack that comes with your 13th birthday, and you get to thinking. Your letting yourself go. You are going to be 400 pounds by next year. You just cannot get enough donuts. It shouldn't be like that. You should be free. Free to eat whatever you want, free to climb a hill if you want to, free to sit at the bottom and not have to feel guilty that you're not climbing it. if you want to. So you resolve in your heart to Work out. Get Skinny. At least I do.

Yes, I've joined the millions of people who tell themselves they're going to change. They're going to eat healthy, jog, do pushups, join a soccer team. I pay for a membership. Two year contract? Sure. This is lifestyle change. I'm going to be going to this gym for the rest of my life. Sign me up for ten! I can't wait for January 1 to finish, so I can get to the gym. January 2 I wait in line for the treadmill. I nod to the others, wordlessly acknowledging their noble efforts. I believe in you, I tell them with the way I move my head up and then down. They reply with a smile, or a nod, or a blank stare. Anything they can think of to say, I believe in you too. Their glares inspire me even more. I throw another pie on the barbell.

By the end of the week, I stop nodding at people. Nobody is nodding back anyway. By the end of the next, I'm too sore to go. I miss one or two work outs before forcing myself to get back into the groove. February 1, I weigh myself. I'm 3 pounds lighter. I go eat a Big Mac. Three pounds is definitely not enough for a month of work. My resolution is failed.

So last year, I decided not to make any resolutions. But I was still fat. So I tried one. - Fail.

This year, we went out for supper with Chelsee's parents on December 31. Chelsee asked her mom what her resolutions were. Julie said, "I can't make any promises, so I'm not going to say."

"New Year's Resolutions are not promises," I said without thinking, "They are more like suggestions to yourself."

The table laughed. Maxx said I should blog about that. Chelsee made fun of how mine are suggestions because I never actually do them. I did one, I told her. Yeah, reading books, she said. You read books anyway. I continued eating my cheeseburger.

The thing is...I think New Year's suggestions are WAY better than New Year's resolutions. With suggestions, there's no pressure. You don't feel like you're failing the world if you don't follow your suggestions. It's like those orange signs when you're exiting from the highway. "Suggested speed limit 40 kms while exiting." Nobody goes from 110 kms to 40 just cause the orange sign suggests it. AND no one feels guilty about it. If you do slow down, a little part of you feels pretty good about yourself. You didn't need to heed the suggestion, but you did. You are a good person. If the city resolved that it was absolutely necessary to slow down to 40 kms, nobody would ever do it, and when they got pulled over for not doing so, they'd let that cop have it. "Who in their right bloody mind would slow down 70 kms just to get to 40?! It's not even a dangerous exit," you'd say to the cop.

Yeah, New Year's suggestions are going to change the world. No more pressure. No more failures. You can't fail to do something if it's only suggested you do them. And you'll feel especially good about yourself if you actually do them.

New Year's Suggestions:

1 January 2010: Work out. Get Skinny. If you want to.

Finish your book. If you want to.

Read your Bible more. If you want to.

Watch less TV. If you want to.

Date your wife more. If you want to.

Make and Follow a budget. If you want to.

2010 is going to be great year.

Sorry I've been gone so long. Thanks for reading.