Wednesday, March 17, 2021

Not quite skinny jeans

It’s hard to know where to begin.  Weight has always been an issue for me.  An issue in terms of something I was never happy with.  Probably since the time I was 11 or 12 (maybe even before) I was “husky.”  I specifically recall that term from the M Sterling store I had to shop at for formal attire in the run-up to my Bar Mitzvah.  Husky is nothing more than a term to describe fat kids, but of course in a nicer way.  As if saying, he’s cuddly instead of “fat.”  Through the years, I grew accustomed to my size.  Sometimes I attempted to diet, other times, I’d attempt to work out.  Somewhere along the way, I simply accepted the weight and lived my life.

In college I peaked at 235 lbs.  I’m not sure when this was, but I speculate it was during my freshman year.  Bad eating habits, stress, a crazy schedule… never a good mix.  When I graduated though, I was probably in the neighborhood of 200 lbs.  I avoided scales so an exact number here is impossible.

In 1999, I moved to England and started to train with a bit more regularity.  It was a way to feel better about myself and get out of my apartment.  In reality, it was simply a way to counter-act all the good beer I was drinking.  Over the course of a year, I added plenty of muscle, but didn’t exactly lose much weight.  I was probably close to 195 lbs, but pretty solid.  Less jiggle, more wiggle.

Fast-forward to 2003/2004 and in preparation of my wedding in 2005, my fiancĂ© and I joined a gym.  Through workouts and adding veggies to my plate, I trimmed a little more to around 180 lbs.  Needing to fit into a tuxedo with fewer alterations was certainly motivational.  This is also around the time we bought our first home and there was plenty of yard work and gardening.  This was a natural way to exercise a.k.a. sweat in the Florida sun.

A new house and a new baby on the way made weight a bit less important.  By this time it was 2007 and my priorities were scattered.  While I felt good and tried to exercise from time to time, it was easier to eat the ice cream and gain sympathy weight.  When my son was born, I looked just as chubby as he did.  I recall having to buy new pants for work and trying on size 38” waist.  That was a bitter pill.

Wanting to ride a mule in the Grand Canyon was a turning point.  In order to do the trip, riders had to weigh less than 200 lbs.  I had 4 months to lose it and I was determined to do so.  Gradual changes to my diet and more activity around the house helped me reach my goal.  I will often refer to this mule ride as the jumping-off point for my slimming.  While the mule ride did inspire me, I truly did it to be a role model for my son.  I didn’t want him to have a fat dad.  I went from 200 lbs to 185, then to 180 and on occasion dipped below 179lbs.  The weight kept coming off and perhaps my eating habits or metabolism was catching up, finally.  At the bus stop (still years away) I wanted my son to have confidence in saying “My dad can kick your dad’s ass!” and have the other kids know it was true.  Not that I was going to fight the neighborhood, rather that I wasn’t a fat guy playing video games eating crap food.

Right around the same time as my second son was turning a year old in 2011, a Moms Group friend’s husband mentioned P90X.  He was going to do and could get me the dvds.  Game on!  I never openly said so, but I made up my mind that I’d beat this friend’s accomplishments.  I accepted the unspoken challenge and went through the gauntlet that is P90X.  Little did I know that my friend quit after the first 3 or 4 weeks.  While my visual results are in the eyes of the beholder, I lost close to 20 lbs.  Everything I owned felt lose.  Everything in my wardrobe was a candidate for donating to Goodwill.

By the summer of 2012, I had dropped down to 155lbs.  I was fitting into 32” waist pants, and wearing size large and even medium t-shirts.  Absolutely mind blowing!  I had veins sticking out in my arms, my biceps were glowing, and with a tan or a good sweat going, I looked jacked.  Not jacked like I was on steroids, but jacked as in fit and capable.  It felt good.

I have to give credit to P90X and wanting to be a healthy role model for my kids.  Don’t be mistaken, I did this for myself as well.  With 40 creeping up, I certainly wanted to maintain my fitness momentum and be in the best shape of my life.  No time like the present right?  I’ve gone through the P90X program close to 3 times although not all of them for the full 90 days.  Whether it be through illness, travel, or some other circumstance, sticking to 3 months isn’t easy.

I’ve graduated to P90X2 and am hopeful to drop back to 155 lbs and reach my goal of under 150 lbs.  Not sure how that’s going to look, but I am excited about how it’s going to feel.


Wednesday, January 13, 2016

Where does the time go?

I can't believe its been 5 years since I came on here and posted.  Well... now I'm here and posting away!  Levi is 5, Eli is 8.  Life is evolving.  Work has changed quite a bit since my last post.  I'm no longer at that cancer of a job.  As I think of it, that whole experience was $32,000 and stomach-churning agony.  In hindsight it wasn't worth it.  Who knows what ADP would have brought, but it surely wouldn't have been as horrible.

I'll post again soon.  Enjoy.  Drink up!

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Permanent Record

One kindergartener punches another.  One is sent home "suspended" the other has no visible marks.  No big deal right?  So when I am told the story, it sounds plausible.  The wife adds; "it will go on the other kid's permanent record."  Since it isn't my son's record we are talking about, I don't know the true meaning, but I am curious.  In addition, we are talking about kindergarten of all things.  I am convinced that when the other child is applying to college, the schools arent going to give a rats ass what occurred in kindergarten.

"Hmmm, I see here that you have a perfect score on your SATs and, oh my... you punched a boy 13 years ago.  We won't be admitting you to this school!"

What is the reality here?  The other kid was suspended the week before Christmas.  What is he really missing?  Some movies and coloring time.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Sleep and screaming

I take great pride in sneaking into bed without waking anyone (dogs included.) Many-a-night, I've bumped into things or used the wall as a guide to get from the door to the pillow/covers. Its the least I can do to let sleepers sleep when I arrive late. In addition, its a cool independent challenge to navigate by nigh light, alarm clock glow, and shadows.

When you wake up early, the same rules should apply. Sneak yourself out of the room, tip-toe down the stairs and try not to be my FIL and slam cabinet doors. I see this as a simple courtesy. Sadly this viewpoint isn't shared household-wide. Light from the sun will inevitably creep into the room, but it does so very quietly. I'd prefer the absence of noise as I wake, not the screaming or "I want my oatmeal" every freaking morning.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

If it wasnt for my checking...

You know when your spouse says they are going to do something or tells you they HAVE done something and then you find out otherwise, it just irks the crap out of you.

Yesterday I changed the air filter in the attic. Not a terribly difficult job because its kinda cool to poke around the attic but at the same time, the attic has insulation that can itch like crazy. So while I replace the upstairs one, the wife says she took care of the basement one. Great! Well today I am looking for an air pump to fill up Eli's new soccer ball (appropriate size 3) and the basement AC kicks on. It sounds rather loud and upon closer look, the door to the AC filter wasnt put on correctly.

However unsurprised I am pails in comparisson to the agitation that would have resulted 3 months from now when I discover that the filter hadnt been on right for the past 3 months. Of course I am the only one that this would bother because mediocrity is embraced by everyone around here but me.

Why is it such a chore to aim for perfection, or better yet, aim to get the job done right the first time.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Buy a T-shirt next time

So, I've been to a shed load of places and taken a lot of photos but what have I got to show for it? My memories are kept on the C: drive and its next to impossible to share them all. As a result, I've decided to upload a few from each country to Facebook. Adding to my own personal vanity will soon be a collection of worldly photos illustrating my adventures.

So what's the point of this post? The point is, buy a frickin t-shirt when you go on vacation. It may be 3 for $10 like the ones in Orlando, but at least you can wear it with pride. Show the world you suffered 8 hours on a trans-Atlantic flight, survived the taxi ride, and stood in the city centre. Along with your pictures (saved locally), you can have something a bit more tangible in your possession.