If I’m not posting I must be doing something right

 

I think my blogging was powered by fat.

I had the time and motivation to blog about all kinds of things more than 30 pounds ago.  Now?  Not so much.

I’m still cranking out some A’s-related stuff for Swingin’ A’s but that’s just because I’m an insane A’s fan and I’m supposed to produce about 5 posts a month for the site.  But I haven’t been doing a damn thing here or at Junkball which leads me to assume that I was a lard-powered blogger.

Shedding pounds is this blogger’s kryptonite.

Now that I’m focusing on getting my rear in gear that’s cut into the time I usually spent blogging about the random things that pop into my head.  I used to write on my lunch break and after work but now I spend a lot of that time taking brisk walks to burn some calories.

By the time I finally have a free moment at the end of the night it’s past 10 p.m. and I’m too exhausted to plop down in front of the keyboard and share some semi-coherent thoughts with whoever is stumbling across this stuff.

Does weighing less = writing less?  In my case it certainly looks like it.  I guess it’s not the worst thing in the world if I’m too busy losing weight to post to my weight loss blog, right?  Funny how it seems to have worked out that way.

On to some other light thoughts from a fat guy:

* Did you see how I snuck in the fact that I have now lost more than 30 pounds this year?  In my previous post I crossed the 25 pound mark and since then I’ve whittled myself down a little more.  I’m actually amazed at how far eating better and moving more can get a guy.  I’m crossing my fingers that I can maintain all my new habits and never see those lost pounds again.

* Who am I and what the heck is happening to me?  As I sit here writing this on my lunch break I realize that I’m regularly snacking on veggies and hummus.  Broccoli, green beans, edamame, sugar snap peas.  I even made my own hummus over the weekend.  It’s like I’ve been body snatched by someone who actually gives a damn about their health.

*  I keep cutting new holes in my belt which is a little annoying because it’s a pain but it’s also really great because it means my gut is slowly, steadily, shrinking like the polar ice cap.  Feeling like my pants are going to fall down while I’m walking around is a new sensation but after years of literally bursting at the seams I can’t complain.  I can tell that my wife thinks I’m crazy because I’ve gotten into the bad habit of cutting a new hole in my belt using a pocket knife while I’m wearing my belt.  One of these days I’m going to stab myself in the gut and I’ll have a lot of explaining to do at the hospital.

* When did I become a creaky old dog?  I’ve been trying to work some more jogging into my routine and every time I do I end up paying for it.  If I have the gall to jog as much as 25 percent of my usual nightly walk my feet, shins, knees, hips and back are sore for days.  A nice new pair of running shoes has done a tremendous job at significantly reducing the pain but it doesn’t change the fact that I always end up feeling like I tumbled down the rocky side of a mountain the morning after running a little.

* Damn you muscle, damn you all to hell.  Last week I really pushed myself to exercise more and despite running myself into the ground I barely lost anything.  Part of the motivation was to make up for having one too many gin and tonics during the week and part of it was to see if I could get within shouting distance of 35 pounds lost.  My wife thinks I’ve gotten to a point where my daily walk through some steep hills is building muscle.   I hope she can handle living with a husband who isn’t just a lot thinner than before but also a lot more muscular because apparently that’s what she’s getting.  Sexy’s back Honey, deal with it.

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