Diary of a Fat Man

I don’t think I’m ready to be a runner yet.  I’m slightly disappointed with myself, but I have to realize that I can’t do everything all at once.  I’m going to stick to walking or some other form of cardio at least three times a week to start, and consider myself successful if I stick to that goal.  I don’t think I was being realistic with the activity goals that I set for myself.  I basically went from zero to sixty, with no build-up.  Plus it’s tough to do all of this at once with all of the other things in life that you need to take care of.

I did get good news (hopefully) on Friday.  I finally spoke with someone who was (gasp) helpful at my mortgage company.  I won’t get too excited until I see it in writing, but I think that I’ve come to an arrangement with them that will get rid of my past due balance by modifying the terms of my loan.  Yay, my kids will still have a house! :)

I had a pretty decent weekend.  We took the kids to Hurricane Harbor on Friday, which will constitute our vacation for the year.  Oh, how the mighty have fallen!  Over the past few years, the vacations have degraded from Disney World in 2000, Panama City Beach in the subsequent years, to Hurricane Harbor for 6 hours this year.  Now that Laurie is going back to full-time teaching, I think we’re going to PCB again next summer.  Redneck Riveria!  Redneck Riveria!  Redneck Riveria!  Huzzah!

There are times during your diet^h^h^h^h lifestyle change that are good.  I had one this weekend: I bought a smaller belt.  If you would have told me 10 years ago that I’d be happy of something that fucking stupid, I would have laughed in your face and then urinated on your shoes (‘cuz back then I was hopelessly intoxicated most of the time).  But I am. 

For me, it’s the stupid little things like that that have made the job easier. From being able to see the TV over my gut without tripling up my pillow when laying on my back (hehe, now I have something of a decline from my sternum to my waist when lying on my pack); to having well defined musculature in my arms and legs again; to seeing veins popping out on my arms because they aren’t hid under a layer of fat; to dropping from a fucking size 46 pants to a 40 (or a 38 when I wear it under my gut); and especially for seeing my jaw line for the first time in a number of years.

I still have a long way to go, but I’m committed to seeing this shit through.  I got a taste of the good life now and I’m not going to fuck it up again.

Recap: Guilt over exercise; still broke, but not homeless; anticipation over good things to come.