The dieteer

Life Intervenes (269#)

2006-05-11T10:42:00.000-07:00

I've suddenly and happily gotten a lot busier lately, so I've been remiss in keeping you up to date. Here's the ten-minute special:

Here's something I never thought I'd say: the dieteer ran a road race late last month. On the one hand, it was only 4.2 miles; on the other hand, I've never done anything like that before. It was for a cause I believe in, I was fairly happy I completed the race in under 45 minutes after about two weeks of mild jogging prep, and I'll be back next year looking to vastly improve my time. I'll be signing up for 5Ks to start with, and moving up from there.

Running voluntarily is just one of the things that makes me feel like I'm caught in an episode of the Twilight Zone. I get rid of these accursed manboobs and I think I'll be a terror on the running track.
I used to get clothes from family members for holidays, and since nobody seemed to know what size I was, they'd generally get me the largest size a major department store would carry. I've had many very nice XXL polo shirts hanging unused and never worn in my closet for years. I recently busted them out, washed them all, and am wearing them regularly. It feels really, really good to do that; I always hoped I'd get to this point, but I never really thought it'd be possible.

Plus, it's less expensive than buying clothes, and my family has better taste than I do.
The dieteer has gotten himself a girlfriend. She's hot, she's smart, she's funny, she's educated, and I'm totally dating above my station. I'm also happy to report that sex minus nearly 200 lbs is everything I'd anticipated.

As an added bonus, she's very fit and active. We're going on hikes, we're going to start running together, and she's got all these good ideas about diet--some of which I might let her convince me about. I don't think that's something I *need* in my life to get where I want to go physically, but I can't imagine it hurting.

I was 269# this morning.

Triple Digits (278#)

2006-04-12T16:26:00.000-07:00

Unfortunately, I've been really busy lately, so I've been unable to post as much as I like here. I did want to post another quick update, though--today I reached 100# lost since September 1, 2005.

I celebrated by having dim sum with a buddy of mine, a former co-worker of his he's semi-trying to hook me up with, and some other people. Hadn't had that in years, and I'm certainly not used to eating stuff like that. I'll make up for it with a delicious protein shake and vigorous racketball game tonight.

I was 278# this morning.

Crunch Time (281#)

2006-04-10T10:52:00.000-07:00

Man, it's getting a lot tougher to lose as I get closer to my goal.

Had a nutritional detour the weekend of April 1, and spent last week making up for it. I'm chugging along now.

The girl isn't going to the wedding with me, but I'll probably be seeing her in early May nonetheless.

I was 281# this morning.

On A Mission

2006-03-20T16:10:00.000-08:00

A lot of weight loss guides I've read over the years place a very high value on having goals. The theory there, I gather, is that the road to Fatland is paved with good diet and exercise intentions which, because of the lack of a concrete outcome in one's mind, remain nothing more than intentions.

That seems a little backwards to me. If it takes a goal to motivate you, what happens when you reach that goal? Is your motivation gone? Can you live a happy, successful life at goal weight without backsliding into bad habits now that there's nothing to strive for? "Lifestyle change" is a term thrown around weight-loss programs in a relationship as tumultuous and dysfunctional as Ike and Tina. The inconsistency of demanding both a lifestyle change and a concrete goal has always bothered me. If one can make the lifestyle change they need to, who cares whether their eyes are on a specific date to be a specific weight, or fitting into a treasured pair of pants, or whatever a goal might be? No artificial motivators should be required if one has made the changes to their diet and exercise habits that they needed to.

I've thought that throughout this process, where I've only half-assedly set goals, if at all, and drawn no motivation from them. It seems to be working well. It sure works a lot better than my old self's diet and exercise plan did, where I'd set lofty, long-term goals one week and have utterly given up on them a couple of weeks later. I'd consistently overestimate my stick-to-it-iveness; my mild desire for self-improvement rampantly overwhelmed my reserve of gumption, and I ended up a few pounds heavier and wondering if I'd ever be strong enough to avoid the behavior that had me so heavy I didn't fit on a scale.

Now that things seem to be going swimmingly, and despite my not believing they're at all useful motivational parts of the process, of course I'm going to set my first goal.

From now through the middle of May, I'm going to be a robot. I'll eat whatever my trainer tells me to--even eschewing my beloved McDonald's breakfast burrito in favour of a doubtless seaweed-tasting meal replacement shake I can pound post-workout. Lean meat for protein, lots of veggies for filler, and few carbs after noon are the order of the day. Workout-wise, I'm not going to miss a session or the 2.25 miles of treadmill work beforehand unless I'm out of town. I'm planning on playing racketball at least three times a week and lifting with my brother three times a week as well. My goal is to be around 250# at the end of this period, which long-time readers know basically marks the end of my journey.

Why am I setting a goal for myself when I've gotten this far without one? While I don't believe goals of this type make sense for purely motivational reasons, there are certainly good external reasons to set them. I've got a function to attend in May, and I'm hoping the person I mentioned at the end of last post will be joining me. It is every bit my intention to show up in the best shape of my life, wearing the smartest tux I can find, and sweep her off her feet.

Prevailing circumstances between the two of us dictate I probably get one good shot at this, and I might not get even that. If that's not important enough to set a target for, I don't know what is.

(If you've been thinking of dropping some weight, I invite you to give a couple of months of healthy living a try along with me. I can't promise a bunch of one-on-one interaction, but I'd love to hear about someone else's success story, and if I can do it, you sure can too.)

Travelling Man (283#)

2006-03-13T19:34:00.000-08:00

Apologies for the length of time between posts again, but I've been in the Bay Area on business for much of the last week, and was pretty busy preparing for the trip before then. I've got some pressing server issues I need to attend to, though, and if that won't drive me to post on this here blog I don't know what will.

Today, let's talk about travelling.

Before last week, I hadn't been on an airplane for quite a while--not since I went to London in late 2004. That trip doesn't really count, because I had one of those crazy-ass Virgin Atlantic first-class seats, in which my ample posterior would almost fit right.

Other than that circumstance, I positively dreaded flying, and would do quite a bit--including driving very long distances--to avoid it. You see, flight as a very fat person is not just a pain in the ass, it's downright undignified. I needed the extension belt--that demonstration belt with a little strap the flight attendants use during their safety schpiel at the start of every flight--in order to wear a seat belt. Asking for that extend-a-belt every time I boarded a plane was one of the most humiliating experiences I recall as a 400+ pounder, and I've really got a lot to choose from.

An even bigger problem is the full flight--like your average Southwest cattle call--where I'm seated right next to someone. Spilling over the armrest would be bad enough, but I simply wouldn't fit between the armrests, and they had to be raised. One time back sometime in 2002 I boarded a flight with assigned seating and found I was seated in the aisle seat of a row where the middle and window seats were already occupied by an older couple. Hoping against hope that I'd be able to get my much-needed buffer seat by sitting in the back of the plane, I tried that, but eventually the people actually assigned to that row showed and I had to go sit in my assigned seat. The husband, who was sitting in the middle seat and making good use of the armrest, was plainly annoyed when I had to move it to sit down and take some of his seat in the process. He gave me nasty looks most of the flight, and while I know it's the Jerry Springer thing to turn to him and say 'The fuck are you looking at? There just more of me to love and that makes you jealous!', I couldn't really blame him. If I were him, I'd probably be annoyed at this fat guy taking up a quarter of my already tightly rationed seat space too.

Flying up to San Jose was great. I sat down, stretched out a little, fastened the belt easily and with plenty of slack to spare, and felt completely at ease. In a way, flying back was even better, because someone was sitting right next to me, and we didn't have any problems coexisting without invading one another's personal space.

That's an important step for me. I'm at a time in my life where I've got the free time and disposable income for a long weekend trip a month for the rest of the year if I like, and I've got plenty of people that have gone too long without seeing. It's just totally freeing to think I can walk onto a crowded plane and sit next to pretty much anyone other than my former self without making their lives any more irritating. I let the difficulty I had flying coach keep me from seeing a lot of people I'd like to see more of, and I'm looking forward to changing that.

Last time, I talked a little about buying clothes. That's another reason this trip was so great. You see, I'm an idiot, and I didn't think to bring a jacket along on the trip. I'm really not used to being cold, and I also don't have anything that really fits me. I've gotten rid of all my old jackets ages ago, and I haven't gone crazy with the clothes buying because I'm still not at my goal weight, so I hadn't gotten a new one. After work my first night in San Jose, I was freezing at my hotel and decided to walk around the surrounding mall to find something to wear.

In my former life, this would have been a chore. I could only shop at big and tall stores, for one thing, which means I would have had to figure out the closest one in an unfamiliar town and find my way there. Once I get there, I'll be faced with mediocre selection. There'd be racks of merchandise labelled stuff like "Big Daddy", which I loathed, because I wasn't exactly proud of being huge and didn't feel like my clothing should indicate otherwise--especially in garish colours and idiotic taglines. Then there's the stuff like on this page, where you get bent over and pay at least twice as much as a similar garment in normal sizes because it's got cybersalesman George Foreman's name on it and is sold to a very limited market size. I mean, what are we talking about here, a few inches more fabric? The bastards wanted $50 per fairly unfashionable polo shirt, and I had little choice but to pay it, because Marshall's doesn't carry 5x-6x clothing.

So when I saw a Marshall's in the mall on Wednesday, I got excited. Bargain clothes--now that's my kind of scene. I went in, found a pretty reasonable selection of XXL merchandise, and got myself a light jacket, two snazz name-brand T-shirts, one of those great wicking workout shirts, and a totally awesome Terrell Owens Eagles jersey for less than I'd have paid for a jacket by itself at Casual Male.

F U, George Foreman.

My 44" Levis are feeling pretty loose. If it weren't so late, I'd go out to a Ross or Marshall's right now and try those 42"ers on.

One other thing happened on the trip--the dieteer was able to confirm in person that he is head-over-heels, totally-swooning in love. Problem is, she's living with some dude. If any of my readers would care to give me some advice on that front, leave me a comment and I'd be happy to post the soap opera-ish details.

Not now, though--I think I'll try to find an open Ross after all. It's only 8:15.

update: picked up some sweet slate cords at Ross tonight. 42"-30" and they fit great... maybe even a little loose.

I was 283# this morning.

Sports (294#)

2006-02-22T22:46:00.000-08:00

Hola amigos. I know it's been a long time since I rapped at ya, but I fell into a vast plate of fried chicken.

Actually, I've been hearing something strange from people lately.

"You don't need to lose any more weight."

I've gotten that from mom. She's just really excited that I've lost so much weight. I think I was probably my parents biggest worry, no pun intended, and I can understand why--it must be awful to contemplate burying one's own child, and I was certainly heavy enough for long enough to make that seem like a likelihood for a worrying parent. Plus I was wearing slimmifying black at the time.

I've gotten that from a friend of mine. Weird story, we communicate nearly exclusively through instant messaging, and the other day I was getting ready to leave for Vega$ and I was trying to decide if this new shirt I got (XXL. I can shop at normal stores and don't have to wear shit with "George Foreman" on it anymore. I'll have plenty more to say about that, trust me.) fit me. So I sent her a picture of me in it, and she said she'd guess I was 180 or something from it--and that the shirt fit. I'll see if I can figure out how to post a picture of it, and you can tell me what you think.

It's brown with pineapples.

Then, while in Vegas, Persia said I didn't need to lose any more weight while we were in post-lap-dance cuddle, or whatever the hell that is. And while I'm intuitively sure she's full of it--I mean, come on, either I'm the most special mother fucker that ever entered Sapphire, or she's making something up--I have to say, it was fun to hear.

I've also heard it from my racketball partners off and on since I resumed playing the sport in 2006, which brings me to the topic of this post.

I've played racketball for about 15 years, in very on-and-off fashion towards the end of that time--I'd play regularly for weeks or months on end, and then take a year or two off. I started playing with my mom, but that didn't last long--she wasn't very good. (Sorry, mom.) I graduated to dad when I was in junior high, and he always kicked my ass, but I gradually learned, and was beating him every so often by high school. Most of my friends throughout high school were into racketball to some degree or another, and I played with them a lot too. I'd probably played regularly about two years since 2000, and I'm certainly not rusty at present.

I guess what I'm getting at is that I'm pretty good at racketball. I probably would have been a C level tournament player when I was up there in weight. I would have gotten abused by passing shots and such, but I've got a solid backhand, you can't lob me, and my ball control is good enough that a C player wouldn't be able to coast.

But of course my stamina was mediocre at best, and the only reason it was that good was because I was lazy as hell on the court. I'd let close shots go more often than not, because I had to conserve my energy for the sure things, or so I'll rationalize. I'd catch myself actually thinking about whether going for a shot was worth it before reacting, considering how hard I'd have to work, and I kind of despised myself for thinking that way. Sure, it actually *was* hard work getting around the court, but I didn't like thinking like that because I thought if I really wanted to get around easier, I'd lose weight. That kind of thinking makes a man feel pretty ineffective.

Now I'm a bolt of greased lightning out there. That little hesitation of consideration never happens. I take a couple of plays off per game, but that's something I can work on not being so lazy about. I'm never tired enough that it's a physical neccessity. I'm quite hard to get a passing shot by, and I can go frontcourt to backcourt and back easily and expeditiously. About a dozen times a game, I'll make a play that I never would have made just three months ago. The racketball I remember playing in late 2004 and early 2005 makes me think of that underwater shootout scene, with all the cartoonish slow-mo implied, in Top Secret!

Since I've started playing racketball again, I think I've rediscovered what makes a sport fun. For the first time since my junior year of high school, I'm both reasonably effective on the racketball court and my limitations stem from my skill level, not a pathetic state of physical fitness. I can't tell you how happy it makes me to lose a point--if I have to lose a point--because I was out of position or fell victim to a kill shot Sudsy Monchick himself couldn't return, not because I'm a mastadon.

Thanks, mom and Persia and the rest of you, for your kind words on how I'm looking these days. But I think I've still got a little ways to go. When people who aren't trying to get my money or make me feel good or both are saying I don't need to lose any more, that's something I might listen to.

I was 294# this evening.

Indicators Positive (299#)

2006-02-08T15:00:00.000-08:00

I had a good weekend, with activity and without ridiculous overconsumption of foodstuffs, and as of this morning, I'm back under 300#.

I had a minor procedure done that required a couple of stitches in late January, so I made another visit to my GP to have her remove the stitches this morning. While I was there, we went over the differences in my results from my Dec 2004 physical and my Dec 2005 physical. If you are looking to lose some weight and/or get in better physical shape, these might be of some interest.

I'm again glad I'm running this blog anonymously, as I'd be very unlikely to provide this information using my real name, which may or may not be unreasonable paranoia on my part.

	12/10/2004	12/07/2005	Difference
Age	30	31	+1 (duh.)
Body Weight*	420	321	-99
Blood Pressure (S/D)	138/90	122/72	-16/-18
Cholesterol (mg/dL)	144	126	-18
HDL ("good") (mg/dL)	37	41	+4
LDL ("bad") (mg/dL)	104	74	-30
Triglycerides (mg/dL)	43	53	+10
Insulin (IU/mL)	33**	4	-29
Glucose (mg/dL)	104**	93	-11

* wearing clothes and shoes. My doctor also tells me that their office scale's a few pounds heavy, which it seems to be. All told, I'm about 6# heavier on the doctor's office scale than I am at home. These are what I remember weighing during my physicals, and they're surely close, but both numbers might be off by a pound or three. BFD, I know, but since I'm making notes...

** prediabetic

Everything's moving in the right direction except the triglycerides, and those are still very, very low. To recap for first-time readers, this is all the result of lifestyle change--eating less, eating more health-consciously, and exercising vigorously and often. I'm not on any sort of medication, nor am I following any externally-planned or -administered diet program. This isn't a full year of progress--I didn't get serious until September 2005.

If I haven't lost interest in this entire endeavour by Dec 2006, I'll post another update then.

I was 299# this morning.

Backsliding (304#)

2006-02-04T12:24:00.000-08:00

Last Friday morning, I hopped on the scale after working out and saw I was 297#. So I decided to take the weekend off nutritionally. I ate whatever I wanted, and usually more of it than I wanted, which was a time-honoured habit of mine until about last August. Pizza, burritos, baked goods--it was a binge, no question.

I expected to put on a few pounds, which I'd then drop the same way I've dropped the rest of them. But on Monday night I was surprised and dismayed to see that I was 322#. 25# in a weekend? That's absurd.

(Then again, what I ate was pretty absurd too. I've changed my lifestyle for the better, but I still look at eating as an acquisitive thing in the state of nature, I think, and I'll probably continue to do so for the rest of my life without watching myself. I'm OK with that, if that's the extent of my cross to bear. Much better than having a debilitating weakness to the addictive properties of nicotine or something similar.)

I felt crappy on Monday when I got up, so I ended up flaking on my workout too, and got no exercise from the middle of Friday through Tuesday morning, which didn't help.

I think this might have been enough to send me into some kind of pathetic downward spiral that ended up with my putting on a lot more of the weight a while back, but this week has been an exercise in getting back to normalcy as it exists for me, watching myself as closely as I have been previously nutrition-wise, busting ass at the gym, and kind of getting things back in order.

It's also been instructive as to how my weight can fluctuate so wildly when faced with two days of eating whatever. On Tuesday, I was 316#. On Wednesday, I was 312#. On Thursday, I was also 312# and getting concerned that I'd picked up 15# of actual pain-in-the-ass-to-lose weight, rather than water weight. Friday, I was 309#. This morning, I was 304#.

The next few days should show me how badly I set myself back with last weekend's shenanigans, but I'm not really concerned. Even if the last 7# are legit weight gain, I can take care of that in a week or two. What I've done is saddle myself with some extra time it'll take for me to move back below 300# and eventually get to my goal, which isn't good and which I don't want to make a habit of. That said, it's not the end of the world.

I was 304# this morning.

Jumping Fences (299#)

2006-01-24T10:54:00.000-08:00

For most of my adult life, I've been very reluctant to jump a fence. It's not because I'm afraid of getting caught somewhere I'm not supposed to be. I'm sympathetic to the cause of the urban explorer, even though I've never done much in that vein myself. My favourite book I read last year was Ninjalicious' (RIP) Access All Areas, for example. (It's an outstanding book, very well written, with a lot to offer even if you don't plan on traipsing around in steam tunnels and on rooftops.)

Rather, I've always been very reluctant to climb on anything due to my weight and fitness level (and associated balance and flexibility). Part of it is a structural issue; when I was up around 450# or so, I think it was a reasonable fear on my part that a standard-issue fence might not hold my weight, and I'd come crashing down. Part if it was my fear of either not being able to make it up the fence, due to all the weight I had to lug, or not being able to decamp on the other side without breaking my ankle.

This isn't to say that I think a thinner fitter person's life is full of scrambling over barriers to places they aren't supposed to be... but sometimes, fun stuff happens. When I was a freshman in college, living in a coed dorm at UC Davis, a group of us polished off a bottle of tequila one night, drunkenly stole over to the local community swimming pool, jumped the 7' chain-link fence, and did some skinny-dipping. I could barely make it over the fence that time, and I was quite a bit younger than I was now. It's a fun memory, and I wonder how many other fun memories I'd have if my fit level, weight, and body image had been healthier throughout my twenties.

I went up to LA this past weekend to see the Survival Research Labs show. Take a look at this image (courtesy of boingboing)

and you'll see that there's a balcony full of people in the background. That balcony was in a locked, fenced property to the east of the parking lot where the show took place, and everyone there jumped a ~5-6' fence to get to their vantage points.

I looked jealously on at the stream of people who were hopping the fence like it was no big deal for a minute or two; it took that long for me to overcome my instinctual fear of doing it myself, even whilst telling myself that I'm a different person now, in different physical condition, and if I can do a grip of lunges and squat-jumps now, scrambling over a short fence shouldn't be a problem. If the guy I went with wasn't pretty persistent about encouraging me, I might have turned back and contented myself with standing in the back of the crowd and seeing very little.

Then I did it. And it was so easy. We ended up hanging about below the balcony in the picture, with front row seats (albeit stage right) to an amazing, interesting, entertainingly destructive 20-minute show. We were so close, we could feel the heat from the forklift-mounted twin flamethrowers. There was nothing but chain-link separating us from total anarchy.

If you are seriously overweight and/or out of shape, and you are looking for a reason to attack your problem, I'm living proof that it will change every facet of your life. Beyond the normal activities I think overweight people fixate on--looking in the mirror and clothes-shopping being fun events; increased attractiveness to the opposite sex (or whatever floats your boat); a more healthy, energetic lifestyle--you'l find yourself able to do things you probably didn't even bother considering before. Impossible things become hard, and hard things become easy.

I'm now lighter than I've been since the attack of the freshman 40 in college 13 years ago. I'm now two bills and change.

I am never going back.

I was 299# this morning.

Quick Observations (301#)

2006-01-20T13:44:00.000-08:00

I had lunch with my best friend the other day. I don't see him that often these days, because he's got a wife and newborn taking up most of his time, so it'd been weeks since we'd seen each other. He had an observation that I thought was kind of funny:

"Whoa. Now you look like an average American, rather than a Texan."
I wouldn't be the heaviest player in the Padres system. That's the first time that's been true in over a decade.

I was 301# this morning.

Meet Me Halfway (307#)

2006-01-15T15:23:00.000-08:00

On September 1, 2005, I weighed 378#. My goal is to get down to about 240#, which is pretty reasonable considering my height and build; that makes the midpoint of my weight loss journey 309#. In August, considering the successes I generally hadn't experienced in my previous weight loss endeavours, I'd have settled for midpoint in mid-2006. Hell, I'd have settled for midpoint sometime this lifetime. Like most morbidly obese people, I simply hadn't been conditioned to expect results, because I wasn't willing to put in the work to get there.

Most of August was spent in the similar limbo period where I was for the previous year or so. I was exercising a lot more than is normal for me and getting in better and better shape, which is a good thing, but I wasn't being careful enough about what I ate to lose weight. Call it maintenance mode about 140# early.

Here's a recap of what has transpired since September 1, which is about when I decided to quit fucking around:

137 days have passed.
I've lost 71#.
That's .51#/day.

Last week, I was pretty sick with the flu bug that was going around--the first time I've been sick since this process started. My energy level was down, I missed several workouts, and I ate some stuff I normally wouldn't (I ordered a large pizza and some fried potato appetizer thingies on Tuesday and ate that through Wednesday, for example). Despite that, I've continued losing weight, and this morning when I stepped on the scale I saw that for the first time I was below midpoint of my goal.

Part of the definition of any good system is productivity under adversity, and with the holiday parties and Christmas dinners of December and the sickness so far in January, conditions for weight loss don't get much more adverse. But where normally I might be mired in the very dangerous "oh, this month doesn't really matter; I'll get back on the horse when things are normal again", which is lazy thinking that can easily extend for months or years into the future, I did lose in that time period. Since November 29, I've lost 20# in 47 days. That's weight loss at a slower rate than I was experiencing previously, but it's weight loss all the same. Now that I'm feeling better and the holiday season is past, I fully anticipate at least another month at my early-winter weight loss rate before I start to run into a problem I hear about from fit people who just want to lose 5-10# or go down one pants size: it's harder to lose weight when you don't have as much to lose.

If you are in anything near the situation I was about 150# ago, I can say this: it's actually a lot of fun being hungry a lot of the time. You'll find that you feel agile and in control and that your body is much more able to engage in any sort of physical activity without a full gut and intestinal tract anchoring you to the earth. I don't mean to sound like I've got an eating disorder or anything like that, because I can still put away more food than anyone I know in a state of nature. Rather, both from a physical activity and energy level standpoint, mild hunger pangs are a tangible physical representation of the change you are making to your lifestyle, and you can be assured that you'll be the better for them.

71# down, 67# to go. I'll be close enough for government work well before August 1, 2006.

I was 307# this morning.

Titus Adams (312#)

2005-12-27T21:11:00.000-08:00

I was reading some Mel Kiper draft content over at ESPN, because I have shit to do and I don't want to do it and when I'm procrastinating I'll read NFL draft stuff, and I happened upon this picture of Titus Adams, Nebraska defensive tackle:

Kiper has Adams listed as 6'2½" and 315 pounds.

I am taller than Titus Adams. I am now lighter than Titus Adams.

Happy holidays, everyone. 2006 is truly going to be off the hook.

I was 312# this morning.

My Crackpot Testost-A-Roni Theory (319#)

2005-12-13T18:36:00.000-08:00

Hola amigos. I know it's been a long time since I rapped at ya, but ... man, 2006 is shaping up to be the weirdest year ever. I went ahead and let the young lady who was the subject of this lameass post a little about what I thought of the whole situation, and I wasn't very nice about it. Plus, I was most of the way through a six-pack when I did it. (I held some stuff back, for the record, and believe a lot of what I said, if not as strongly or with as much certainty as I said it.) Then I told her I didn't want to see her for a while, and stormed out. I ended up emailing her today asking if she wanted to have dinner sometime so I could apologize in person, although I'll start in the email by saying I was sorry, and she said "I'm good thanks", so who knows when or if that'll be resolved. The funny thing is that there's nothing less hot than someone telling you they aren't buying what you're selling, and I'm not even attracted to her anymore as far as I can tell, so when and if we reconcile, we'll probably be problem-free.

I find myself pretty emotional and capable of some sort of outburst--of which I'd consider the intro paragraph an extreme example--these days. I'm generally much happier and more energetic than I've really ever been in my life. On the occasion where I'm sad, I'm finding myself quite sad. And I absolutely cannot get warm enough when I'm going to sleep, but wake up sweating profusely. I know--it's gross. Just think of if it was happening to you.

It's like I'm going through puberty again. That, and the general state of horniness.

Which brings me to this crackpot theory I have. I had my physical last Thursday, and my GP, who I've had since I was about 15, took blood samples and said she'd mail me a card with the results. I thought about my general physical health, and then I thought about my history of a very low testosterone level, and how I've lost quite a bit of estrogen-producing fat and gained quite a bit of testosterone-producing muscle over the last year in general and three months in particular, and I wonder if part of the deal is I've never dealt with anything resembling a normal testosterone level and I'm just not used to it?

That'd explain a lot.

My GP also wigged out in general about how much better I was doing than last December, and I enjoyed that. I'd never been able to weigh in on her office scale before.

Everything's going very well otherwise, though I'm still pretty lonely, what with my rapidly contracting circle of friends. I'm back on a roll weight-loss wise, and my brother and I are nearly halfway through the Russian chest workout, and my loved ones are safe and happy. I've got some of my best friends from high school coming back to town over the break, which will be a welcome distraction. And I've got a bowl of chicken and vegetables, and another bowl of a different sort altogether, awaiting me, so I shall go.

I was 319# this evening.

Ganja and Weight Loss (327#)

2005-11-29T21:11:00.000-08:00

Christ, sorry about that last post. That was pretty self-indulgent.

Thanksgiving went well. There was a ton of drinking and too much eating--though not close to as much as usual; I never felt full, I was more pleasantly not hungry, and I chilled at my folks' place all of Thurs and Fri, so I was around a lot more food than normal. This is the first week I've been up a little since September. On the good side of things, I did get some exercise by walking to the grocery store for some vitamins on Friday and putting in an hour on the treadmill Saturday.

Actually, the worst day of the holiday weight-loss wise was Sunday, when I hooked up with my contact--let's call him Emil--and got an eighth of weed. I hadn't smoked for over a month previously.

I'm very conflicted about weed. I really, really like it--I'd be a total basehead if I didn't like showering so much and patchouli and incense so little--but I know it's not good for me as far as losing weight goes.

I've smoked for years off and on, but this year I really got caught up in it through about October or so. I like it because I like being high. I don't have hallucinations or anything wild like that very often, it's just a pleasant buzz and relaxedness. It's actually quite a bit like the buzz of a few cans of beer--before one goes over Shitfaced Falls--but alcohol can give me a hangover and I never feel bad the next day from smoking a bowl.

I think I used to like weed for other things too, like the license for gorging myself and watching a movie or something similarly inactive. A lot of the effects of marijuana have changed for me over the last few months, as I've lost weight. Now, I'm not particularly apt to sit around while stoned. I like getting out, experiencing things, cleaning the house, or whatever. While I was baked on Sunday, I completely cleaned out the garage, organized shit, and got my weight bench ready for my brother to come over and do this crazy Russki bench press regimen that I'm sure will have us looking like Hans and Franz by this time in 2006.

But one thing remains: I want to eat more when I'm stoned than when I'm not. That's not entirely the same as it used to be either... it's much more managable than before. I'd say that weed has the same proportional effect on my appetite that it always did, and I just want to eat less now than I used to.

(There are other problems. I have lots of interesting thoughts and such while stoned but I tend to not have much recall, minimizing their usefulness. I'd much rather smoke with someone else, but I'm running all the smokers that I know off for various reasons this year, and I'll also smoke alone--something I'd never do with booze. Stuff like that.)

I always say that I'm going to stop smoking unless it's a social thing, like I do with cigarettes. (I actually smoke them in that fashion--not unless I'm drinking, and I don't do that unless I'm hanging out with people. And I'm not saying that in an "I'm a smoker who just can't admit it" fashion; if I have a pack a year, it's an action-packed year. Sorry, truth.org, there are people like that out there.) Maybe I'll end up doing it. Now that I've got some weed, we'll see how I do this week.

I'll tell you this much--I like my chances of hitting 300# in December, even if Bob Marley himself comes down from Rasta Heaven and smokes me out with gourmet shit all month.

I was 327# this morning.

Is Dropping Pounds Instant Sexy? (325#)

2005-11-22T11:52:00.000-08:00

Short answer: I guess not.

Long answer: having gone through a breakup of a long-term relationship a few months back, I've been getting to feeling like I'm ready to start dating. I've got this friend who I've more-or-less lusted after for years, and she kind of acted like she felt the same way about me (though while I was dating someone else, we of course kept things on a professional level). She's a little on the larger side, though nowhere near as large as I am, and she's been working hard for the last month or two to lose weight and get in shape, and I found that pretty friggin' exciting--not only because she looks better, but because she's taking control of one aspect of her life and seems to be getting some results. I thought there was a reasonable chance she might feel the same way about me.

So I asked her out the other day.

And I got the old "I've never felt that way about you" line.

Rant warning: here's some shit I didn't say, but an anonymous blog is a nice thing for stuff like this. This is a girl who has either dated or talked about having a crush on virtually every guy I hang out with, and I don't mean to run down the crowd I run with because there's some quality people in there, but she's been with a few total rejects and jackasses. Additionally, I really don't buy the never line, because while I kind of suspected things wouldn't work out, she used to act even more friendly towards me long ago when we were youts--the way I've seen her act around people she wants to date. (Admittedly, that has nothing to do with the price of tea in China.) And she used the "I truly believe you'll find someone wonderful" line, which I now know is really obnoxious to hear in that situation. Sorry for using it myself, former girlfriend.

So yeah, I think I managed to get myself best-friended, with all the associated emasculation that implies. That's a real fucking shame, because we get along great, have plenty of common interests and things to keep us occupied, and I already know I love her.

(It's also a real shame because as you might have heard, losing weight makes one very horny--especially if they've had a history of low testosterone, likely due to the concentration of estrogen-producing fatty tissue on their bodies. I can't keep my damn hands off myself, and I recently read somewhere that for every 30 lb a guy loses, his penis effectively "grows" by an inch... and that actually doesn't seem to be all that far off the mark, if you know what I'm saying and I think you do.)

(Why, if she knew what I wanted to do with and to her, I'm sure that'd change everything. Maybe I'll tell her.)

(Then again, maybe not.)

So yeah, that's the bad (and totally off-topic) news. The good news is that the weight loss continues at a reasonable and unmitigated pace, I was bound to get rejected sometime so I might as well get that out of the way expeditiously, and I actually do believe that I'll find someone wonderful. I'll just have to broaden my horizons a little bit.

I was 325# this morning.

Buying Clothes

2005-11-17T11:07:00.000-08:00

Buying clothes is a surreal experience for me lately. I've always bought loose-fitting clothing, in order to avoid being one of those overweight people who wear shirts too small with their guts sticking out the bottom, etc. In addition, I've tended to gain weight slowly over time unless I'm being very careful, and you don't get to 400+# by being very careful very often. So when I bought clothes, I'd eschew anything that fit even close to tightly, on the assumption that even if it was OK now it might not be in a month or two.

A couple of weeks ago I picked up a pair of Levis from the big-and-tall store. I tried the 48"-30"s, and they were a little tight. I was very tempted to take them back and try on some 50"s, and I had to tell myself that my clothes-buying paradigm needed to change with my current weight trajectory, so I went ahead and bought them. Now, they're almost too loose, and I just think about how little wear I would have gotten from 50"s and--well, I'm just not used to this. I love it, but I'm not used to it.

The Joy of Exercise (329#)

2005-11-14T10:23:00.000-08:00

Last time, I talked about what I'm eating. Something that I neglected to mention is that you shouldn't do what I do without consulting a medical professional. I'm just some idiot with a blog.

On to today's topic. I'm a lazy sack by nature. I'd much rather sit and play a video game, or watch TV, or surf the internet, or read, or pretty much anything else that can be done by sitting, given the opportunity. I like to think of it as conserving energy, but in reality, it's not done me any favors over my lifetime by contributing to my wide-load lifestyle.

Over the last three months or so, I've been trying to combat that by working out every weekday, and I've added Saturdays to my schedule this month as well. My typical workout:

7:30am: 1/2 hr cardio, generally treadmill. I'm currently getting 2.25 miles in.
8:00am: 1 hr resistance training on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday; 1/2 hr resistance training and/or vigorous cardio, such as boxing, on Tuesday and Thursday

On Saturday, I'll get 4.5 miles in on the treadmill.

My innate laziness, coupled with my social nature, make this schedule all but impossible to do on my own. During the week, I work with a personal trainer. He's outstanding. He used to be a football player--not sure how seriously I could take being trained by a stickperson, no matter what kind of crazy shape they were in--and we're on the same page as far as working out goes. He wants me to build big muscle groups, which should kick up my metabolism as well as making me look more like the Rock, and I'm all about doing that as well, so we do lots of squats, lunges, bench press, clean-and-press, curls, etc. On Saturday, I'll draft someone to go walking with me, figuring I'm doing them a favor in the process.

I've seen immense change in musculature and physical ability since I started this schedule. I used to get pretty sore after I worked out; now, I feel good all the time--a little fatigued and loose, but in no pain. I'm much, much more flexible, despite not doing yoga or anything flaky like that. Like many fat people, I used to have trouble doing things like getting to my feet to clip my nails or bending over. Now I'm enjoying my relationship with my feet (and trying to get them into better shape; they're not used to all this action) and bending over is easy.

Everything all those annoying exercise freaks tell you about the benefits of exercise is true, unfortunately. I have a lot more energy--I dance around the house a lot, for example, which you'd have had no chance of seeing last year--and I need less sleep. I even get a little antsy on Sundays when I don't get much exercise, so I might have to start doing something then too.

My approach to exercise has changed as much as my approach to diet over the last few months. I remember around the start of the year when I had this goal in mind to walk 1000 miles in 2005. I used to try to psyche myself up with this kind of artificial nonsense, and it just didn't work very well; I'd miss a day, say 'well, can't make it to 20 miles this week', and get a little off the tracks. With food, your dietician might call that 'black-and-white thinking'. Now, I'm walking 15.75 miles just in warmups and not even really thinking about it.

I also used to work out after work in the evenings three days a week, instead of every morning, and that didn't work well either. I'd dread working out all day on my workout days, and I'd conveniently come up with work I had to do to keep me at the office, and I'd generally show up late. Now, I get up at 6:30am, hit the shower, go straight to the gym, work out, shower there, and head to work, full of vim and vigor. I get to the office late, but I can stay late to make up the time and my boss is on board with the process. I'm very lucky I've gotten so much support.

There is a downside to this production; it's really expensive. I'm dropping $215 a week to stay on this schedule, as one-on-ones with a competent personal trainer aren't cheap. It's totally worth it, based on the progress I'm making, but sometime next year when I reach my goal I'm going to have to cut back and work something cheaper out. I suspect as my energy and fitness levels continue to ramp up, that won't be a problem.

If you're looking to start a workout regimen, I'd recommend a few things:

Watch out for chafing. I sweat a lot. A few weeks back, I exchanged most of my resistance work one week for additional cardio--my trainer tells me one should do such a thing every so often to give the body a chance to recover on a more macro level from months of weight work; I'm not sure I believe him. We probably logged 30 miles that week, and I was wearing cotton T-shirts all week, and they were soaked most of the time. On Friday, I looked down and saw a red stain on my chest, and it turned out my nipples were so chafed they'd cracked open and started bleeding.

Under Armour makes outstanding wicking workout gear. I got a few of their shirts and I'm never going back.
Make sure your shoes and socks are in good shape. I always bought cheapo Walmart house label crew socks, and I never had a problem with them because of my largely sedentary lifestyle. As I started moving around more and more, I noticed them bunching up and doing other bad things, and I'd be getting blisters all over the place. I got a set of Thorlos and I can't believe how cushy they are, but I'm not all that keen on spending $12 on a pair of socks. I'm making do with Goldtoes I got on clearance right now, and they work well. I can still wear cheapo socks every so often, as long as I wear the real thing most of the time, but do get some good socks. Ross or Marshalls or some other discount store is a great place to look for them.

As far as shoes go, before I started exercising I'd generally get a new pair every year or so; I picked up a pair of New Balance crosstrainers a month and a half ago and I'm probably due for another pair soon. I like New Balance because they make wide-width shoes, which I need. Keep your shoes in good shape. I went too long on my last pair, the insoles started curling up, and my feet were in hell for a week before I made it to Sears to replace them.
Soreness will make cowards of us all. I remember when I started working out, I was so sore I could barely walk the next day. You've heard this elsewhere, but it *will* get better. Keep to a sensible exercise plan, don't overdo it and tear anything, and get some light exercise when you feel sore--my 1/2 hour walks in the morning really help there; I can feel what soreness I have being worked out of my muscles as I move.

---

In other news, does anyone who is overweight list their actual weight on their drivers license? Mine had been listed at 330# for years, even though I weighed a lot more than that. Yesterday was a good day, as I made it to my drivers license weight for the first time in about a decade. If I needed additional motivation to stay on track, that's the kind of milestone that would provide it.

So are the trash bags of clothes I'll never be able to wear again unless I start rapping, all ready to be donated to the thrift shop.

I was 329# this morning.

A Diet Plan of Sorts (331#)

2005-11-12T14:52:00.000-08:00

I talked last time about how diet books and programs are mainly useless; most likely, you know enough to lose weight if you want to, you just have to do it. That said, here's what's working for me.

I start nearly every day off with a delicious McDonald's breakfast burrito and a super-sized Diet Coke at around 9:30am. That's right--I've lost about 50 lb in the last two and a half months eating a daily meal at McDonald's. Take that, Morgan Spurlock! (And if any Mickey D's marketing people are reading this, drop me a line. I'm sure we can work some sort of endorsement deal out.)

The breakfast burrito isn't particularly nutritious, and it's certainly not low-fat. What it is is hot, egg-based, quick, and cheap, which is how I like my breakfast food. McDonald's also does a pretty good job standardizing serving sizes and composition of my burrito. If I go by a taco shop and get something like this, it'll really vary in size and makeup from day to day depending on who is working the kitchen, whether they got some last night, etc. With McDonald's, I'm pretty assured of getting a small burrito that is about 290 calories every time.

A couple of years ago I could have eaten three or four of these for breakfast. One seems to be working out pretty well these days, though.

If I worked out particularly hard, I get two super-size Diet Cokes. I also take a generic men's multivitamin as soon as I get to the office.

For lunch, I'll get a turkey and pepper jack sandwich on squaw from the cafeteria, or I'll go out to lunch with one of my peeps and get something roughly equivalent. I'll get brown mustard on one side, and a bunch of veggies on top, so except for the cheese, the sandwich is uniformly low-cal. Sometimes I'll eat the whole thing; more often, I'll eat a half and then eat the other half later in the afternoon.

Back when I was seeing a nutritionist for a while, she told me it was important for me to eat five or six times a day. I've totally ignored that advice. I might eat the rest of lunch in the afternoon if I get hungry, but otherwise I don't eat anything between meals. Every so often, I'll have a Luna bar. I wish they weren't marketed so strenuously to women, because I like them a lot better than other bars of these type I've tried. Again, they're good tools to have around because they're a guaranteed 170 calories--much better than a cupcake from the vending machine or something of that nature--but I only eat two or three a month.

I like going out to eat, and I'll often do that for dinner. I'll get something that would probably be considered 'light'--soup and half a sandwich, or a salad, or a veggie pizza with low-fat cheese if I go to one of those personal-sized-pizza places that sprouted in Southern California like mushrooms on a lawn after a spring rain a few years back. I'll eat about half of what I order most of the time, and take the rest home to have for lunch or dinner some other night. I'll still do fast food every so often, where I'll choose something like a Carls Jr Santa Fe Chicken sandwich sans Santa Fe sauce or a Chicken Fajita Pita from Jack in the Box. On rare occasions--if I've eaten especially little during the day, or just for the hell of it--I get a carnitas or carne asada burrito from a taco shop. That's probably the worst thing I eat, and I almost never do it.

I'm no kind of cook, but what I have done at home that works well for me over the last couple of months is make chicken foil packets: two or three chicken breast tenders; about a half-pound of frozen broccoli, peas, onions, mixed veggies, or whatever; garlic salt and pepper. Wrap in foil, bake for a while at 375 or so, and eat. They're easy, they're pretty nutritious, they're conveniently-portioned, and I make five or six of them at a time and refrigerate the rest so I'm all set for about a week.

Dinner is generally at around 7:00, and after that I'm done for the day. If I'm really hungry, I'll nuke some veggies and season with salt and pepper, but I almost never do that.

I drink a shit-ton of diet sodas of various types. On weekdays, I generally drink about a half-gallon of water as well--it's nice having an office near the water filter, and I keep a water bottle on my desk. Outside of that, I drink very little water.

A couple of times a month, I'll have an adult beverage or six. I stick to Amstel for beer when I can--it tastes as good as most full-calorie stuff to me--but I'll also have shots and god knows what else if a good time is being had. I can and do drink a lot, since I personally enjoy drunkenness in the presence of other drunkards or sympathetic individuals and I have a pretty high tolerance. It seems to be getting lower as I lose weight, though.

In general, I could give a damn about fat, carbs, etc.; I'm more interested in the calories than anything else. I don't really keep track of what I eat, and I certainly don't actively count calories. If I were to start to feel faint, or anything else I attributed to not eating enough, I'd eat, but I don't get that. I'd guess I'm at anywhere from 1000-1500 calories in a normal day.

What I would be interested in knowing is how much less I'm paying for food than I was last year at this time. It's been a huge difference, as my ex and I loved going to full-service places and ordering complete meals, appetizers, and drinks fairly regularly. I don't do that all that often anymore, and when I do, I'm usually just paying for myself, and I don't get the extra stuff.

Finally, this may be TMI, but it's interesting what a diet like this after a lifetime of fast food combo meals and burritos does to one's bowel movements. I'm pretty regular in that department--once in the morning, which I'm often thankful for--but while I was previously a champion toilet-plugger, now there's just not much there.

Next time, I'll talk about exercise. I've made just as much of a lifestyle change there, and would argue that it's quite a bit more important in the scheme of things.

I was 331# this morning.

How to Lose Weight (339#)

2005-11-05T22:00:00.000-08:00

I've read about 20 diet books in my lifetime, I'd guess, and diminishing returns have been really apparent. There isn't that much novel information contained in these books; they'll disagree on small things, and there are a few flies-in-the-face-of-everything-else moments (like when I first read Dr. Atkins' New Diet Revolution), but by and large, this ain't rocket science. Losing weight is really really hard, but it's not very complicated.

There are apparently people out there who don't know that eating burgers and fries three times a day isn't healthy and will almost certainly make you fat. I'm assuming you aren't one of them; if you've even put a little effort into educating yourself about the human body, nutrition, and exercise, you know what you need to know.

Assuming you have that minimal baseline of knowledge and common sense, and further assuming you are trying to lose weight, you'll be likely reading diet books for the same reason I did. You're looking for the silver bullet--the pill, product, or process that makes the weight magically come off, and turns you from Jerry Falwell to Jerry O'Connell. You want this magic with a minimum of effort or change (of eating habits, of exercise behaviors, of your relationship with food, etc). That's what I wanted, even if I wouldn't have been too hasty to admit it.

The reason diets don't work is because of that mentality, and the people who write these books ought to cop to this. (To be fair, many of them do.) There isn't a diet out there that will make you reliably drop pounds without a lot of change on the part of the dieter. Without addressing the relationship you have with food and exercise, you're doomed to failure, no matter how many Deal-a-Meal-type schemes you try.

I'd like to write a diet book. I might be able to ca$h in--if it worked for a not-exactly-magnetic-personality no-talent like Jared Fogle, maybe it'd work for me. But I'm not sure I could stretch the concept that you probably already know what to do and now you just need to do it for much longer than this post. It really is that simple. Eat less. Exercise. Take your vitamins. Wear your rubbers when it rains.

You need to want to lose weight. You need to want it badly enough that you can rise to the top of the animal kingdom with all the other humans and take control of your destiny. If you can do that, whatever program you embark upon will probably work. If you're really lucky, it'll end up being one of the easiest sweeping changes you've ever made in your life, because you'll see yourself, your life, and your activities in a post-fat-you world so clearly it'll be effortless to go to the gym and eat right. That's where I am now, and I'm intensely grateful for that every time I step on the scale.

How one gets oneself into that state isn't something I know, though I'll explore some of the aspects of my own change here soon. I don't think you can make yourself want to lose weight, just like you can't make yourself love haggis or Celine Dion. You either do or you don't... and if you do, but not badly enough to do what you know it will take, then you really don't.

But be honest with yourself and engage in some soul-searching. If you aren't in that state of mind--if you aren't happily willing to give your pound of flesh to this process--don't bother reading diet books. They have nothing for you, and they'll just depress you.

If you are in that state of mind, don't bother keeping a food or exercise journal. Don't fuck around with exchanges and points and any of that garbage. Don't give yourself 'free days'. Since you are happy to make the right choices, the structure and trappings of conventional dieting are about as useful to you as keeping track of breaths drawn or blinks. That stuff is subconscious, and your making good choices for food and exercise will be subconscious too.

You'll want to track your progress, but that's easy. Weigh yourself daily. Don't be afraid of the scale. With reasonable eating and exercise habits, your body will eventually realize reasonable proportions. Watching the numbers drop off the scale as you continue down your journey will be a lot of fun.

Even more fun will be the frequent visits to the store to get clothes that fit, and the frequent sweeps of the closet to get rid of shit that no longer does, and never will again.

I know it is for me anyway.

I was 339# this morning.

Recent weight-loss history

2005-10-24T23:00:00.000-07:00

In my introduction, I noted that I thought I'd be successful in my efforts to lose weight. To provide a little more detail, I'd first like to report on my recent weight-loss history.

About a year ago, I weighed 410# based on my own reporting... I could well have fudged that number downward a little bit. It's easy to do when 99% of scales won't hold you. I had a half-assed system where I stood on a normal bathroom scale on each foot, and then I tried to stand still enough so the relative numbers didn't move while looking at each one and adding the results together.

I'm totally aware that this process lends itself to leaning one way when looking at a scale and leaning the other way for the other one, and I'm sure I did this to some degree (though I tried not to). If you are in a similar position, don't despair--the Tanita HD351 Digital Scale with Memory Function* is one of the best purchases I have ever made in my life, and it could be yours too. It's got a 440# capacity.

I probably reached my heaviest in 2001 or 2002, when I stood on a 440# capacity scale and got the dreaded overlimit display. God knows how much I weighed then, but I believe it was closer to 500# than 440#.

If I remember correctly, I was wearing pants with a 58" waist at that time. I just went out on Wednesday and picked up some 50" waist jeans, because nothing I owned fit anymore. I'm wearing a pair of them right now. They're a little loose.

Most of my recent weight loss has occured in two time periods. Around the start of the year I lost about 20# over a couple of months. I was in a good place for weight loss at the time--not as good as now, but as good as I'd ever been up to that point. Then I got up to my old tricks while recuperating from a surgical procedure that helped throw me off my workout schedule--the standard song-and-dance you'll hear from people who are trying to lose weight. I was at about 380# at the beginning of September.

That's when shakabuku took over, and I haven't really wavered since.

* I'll link to products I talk about where possible, because what the fuck**, this is the Internet. I don't make any commission off the links, and I don't care if you use them or not. I'm just trying to help a brother out.

** I'll also swear a lot. That's just how I roll.

Introduce Yourself (347#)

2005-10-21T17:18:00.000-07:00

Hi. I am a morbidly obese man who has had a serious weight problem all my life. Now, I'm on my way to being sized normally, and I find myself with a lot of thoughts on what has been a very interesting process thus far. I figured I'd write about them somewhere, and through the vagaries of whimsy and vanity, here we are.

I'd like to be as honest as reasonably possible here, both to make it a more interesting read and because I've found through largely unrelated events of the past couple of months that honesty is amazingly cathartic. However, I'm pretty judgmental and I'm quite sure that I'll say some things here that I'd rather not be associated with by name, so I'll be taking the coward's way out and running things anonymously. I always want to know why someone isn't using their real name online, so in case you are like me, there's my reasoning.

I'm actually not acquainted with much on the Internet as far as dieting goes, except those awful dieting blogs that people make where they list everything they eat, and it isn't optimal, and they lose no weight, and they obsess about it, and other people laugh at them. Stuff like this. I'm confident this won't be one of those operations. I'll write more about that presently.

Other stuff you might want to know about me:

31yo engineer
Southern Californian
6'3", broad build. "Child bearing hips" they might say were I a woman. ("freakishly large", they'd probably say first.)

I was 347# this morning.