This post is part of the series Losing Over 100 Pounds

Other posts in this series:

  1. Day 1: Chango! Why I’m Going to Make Over 100 Pounds Disappear and Other Magical Tales (Current)
  2. Video: The Diet in His Own Words
  3. Day 2: An Introduction

Current Weight: 292.2 lbs
Body Fat %: 38.3
BMI: 41.8
Target Weight: 180 lbs
Need to Lose: 112.2 lbs

“What is the number on your asset tag label?”

“Where is it?”

“It’s in on one of the bottom corners of your laptop. Should be next to the track-pad.”

“Um… zero, zero, twenty-four.”

“Alright. Awesome. I just saved myself from burning the three calories coming to your desk. You know, because I need to save them, because it’s winter.”

She laughed. I realized I had made another self-deprecating joke making fun of my weight and how I’ve been putting and keeping it on. I comment on the importance of making fun of ourselves. She agrees. I make an adjustment on her computer remotely. She thanks me for the help and we hang up.

Looking back over the last three to four months I realized that this was only the latest of many jokes about my own weight I had made. Sure, they were funny, but I was joking about my weight as though I was okay with it, as though I had accepted it as being who I am. How can I feel the way I do about my weight in both the looks and more important health departments, but be making jokes that imply acceptance? Was this a way to lie to myself by lying to others? Was this a way of avoiding the shame I self-imposed by taking a false sense of sarcastic pride?

A Worthwhile Change

I had only started reading Penn Jillette’s book, Presto! How I Made Over 100 Pounds Disappear and Other Magical Tales, when this happened. The book finally made it to my Kindle app on my phone a week after listening to Penn’s many various talks and interviews on my long commutes to and from work, but it should have been downloaded sooner. The more intrigued I became, the more I knew this was going to be an undertaking and perhaps that’s why I put it off. I had also recently revisited the idea that perhaps (and very likely so) I was a chronic procrastinator.

There have been many diet attempts before. The mobile app, MyFitnessPal, was great for calorie counting. FitBit Charge and Samsung Gear 2 Neo were great devices to keep track of various levels of activity. Then there is the highly unused gym membership that I can’t get rid of for a few more months (if that will still be the plan by then). But I, like most people, are a comfort/convenience food addict. Just like an alcoholic can have one beer or glass of wine a day their entire lives and still be an addict compared to those at the bar every night or drunk throughout the day, the same variety of behaviors and consequences can be seen when it comes to poor eating and how quickly or quietly it kills us and sabotages our life.

Just like my poor diet has been learned from a very young age of watching American commercials and then being subjected to what the neverending demand for crap created… grocery stores filled to the brim with crap and a fast-crap joint or four at every corner (and willing to deliver), it can be relearned into something different. Removing every ounce of what made poor eating so easy without starving yourself could very well do what all of the other diets most people failed at didn’t. This meant removing food as entertainment, routine, and emotional comfort. It was strictly to eat when hungry and nothing else and to do so in this way, meant eating only one vegetable for two weeks straight without any additives or anything removed.

Today is the day I dare myself to try something crazy, because taking medication for something I can control and ultimately prevent seems crazy already and that’s where my current trajectory is heading very soon.

As much as you like to eat crap, drink crap, smoke crap, snort crap, inject crap, watch crap, gamble crap, screw crap, and/or steal crap… do you think you’ll ever be ready to say “Maybe, I’ve done enough crap in my life. I really don’t need anymore”? Would you trade the satisfaction that crap gave you in order to change how you feel and treat the things you’re addicted to for the better?

What if the results of making that change were amazing, providing us with a life we only thought a stronger willed, and in turn imaginary, version of us could have?
What if you’re not ready to accept that you’ve reached or are way past your best for the rest of your life?

Whatever your answers are, I just know that I don’t want to die at┬áthe hand of a┬ácheeseburger and I want to spend as much time on this planet with my family as I can.

There is pride to be had in not killing yourself.
It’s time to earn that pride.

Potato Mono Diet
My first helping of potatoes and celebratory utensils.

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