Day 142

May 22nd, 2012: Scratched out another pound today. 266. It doesn’t matter whether you weigh every day or every week or every month or whatever, I guess. What you weigh is what you weigh.

I mean, I’ve seen guys my height (5′-10″) and 266 lbs. who didn’t appear to have an ounce of fat on them. Then I’ve seen 189 lb. guys my height who looked like gobs of room-temperature goo. What you look like is what you look like, that’s probably more important than what the scale reads.

My appearance never seems to change, though. I mean, I can look at the progress photos and see something happening, and I know I’m in smaller clothes – which are all facts, but then I look at other people and I still feel like a fuckin whale with two legs. I still feel like and look like the only fat stick figure. I believe that if my hair was a different color and it was long and tied in a knot on top, and if I was wearing one of them mawashi things sumo wrestlers wear, then I would fit right in the group photo with the rest of them at the sumo stable.

One of my students once told me I had a great sense of humor, and that I reminded him of a fat Jack Black. Isn’t Jack Black already fat?

May 22nd, 2020: Travel.  There was a steep learning curve when traveling on the program, and numerous epic failures prior to the cobbling together of how it works now.  This is one area that needs to be stitched, edited, tweaked, and polished before I can put it out for public consumption.

In other words, the program did not travel well at all.  Why is that? Numerous reasons, but the main one is that I usually only travel when I’m on vacation.  And even when I go on a “business trip”, I’m just like all you other jerkoffs and consider it merely a company-paid vacation trip. 

Who the hell wants to board Skywest/Delta out if IFD at 6am with a cooler full of prep-trays of food and not a single beer?  Who the hell wants to Uber it to find a Piggly Wig or a Publix when you’re jet lagged to make sure you’ve got enough Pace Medium Salsa and a bag of Splenda?  Who wants to go to a dinner invitation with the boss, or to a cool place with the family, and order only ice-water, and then sit there for an hour and crunch all the ice cubes in your glass and then all ones in the pitcher?  You can only people-watch for so long before your stomach eats itself.  I could go on and on – and all the above questions could be answered with one word: “you”. You do, that’s who. You do want to do all those things, because you want this so bad that you’ll do anything to hold on to your religion and taste success.

If you follow the program like I follow the program, you can fuck it up; like I have when I’ve traveled, or you can get it right, as I’ve learned how (because of the fuck ups).  So you pack your food, you go to the Publix, you go to the hassles.  Sorry, man, but that’s how it is when you’re like me and you can’t control yourself.  I’ve offloaded 3 or 4 coolers from a cab to the hotel room before.  It sucks, but wanna know what sucks worse?   That’s right, getting back in the program groove, or never getting back in the groove at all because you took a taste of the food that’s there for you on the dark-side, and there’s no way you’re going back to controlled eating.

It’s just another thing where you have to re-tool your mindset.  Vacation-trip or business trip, neither are synonymous with binge-eating or generally eating like an asshole.  Hunting trips, wow, I’ve got some work to do there.  Same principle, but that triad of hike, work and eat huge is a tight bunch of bro’s I’ve got to learn to separate.

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