Ok, so I’m standing on the drop-edge of 40. The brand-new scale says I weigh 271.2 lbs, or in kinder metric speak, according to my calculations, 123.2 kg’s. ! I have hypertension, and am forced to take pills daily which medically regulate my blood pressure so I don’t end up on dialysis, or have a heart attack. I have an intimidating family medical history of diabetes and heart disease, on both sides, with my parents being the most immediate examples; my father has had two heart attacks, and a few years ago my mother was diagnosed with type II diabetes which she regulates with pills. I have made jokes about my weight for lots of years. Last year though I lost my best friend, who was much more fit than I, to an unexpected heart attack. That should have been wakeup call enough. It wasn’t. I didn’t curb my eating habits at all, or consistently exercise; in fact I made no changes at all, other than miss my best friend. I continued to joke about my weight.
The truth is my weight is something that no witty bend of language can camouflage. It’s not fun being fluffy, as I usually call it. Clothes don’t fit, I don’t feel comfortable in many situations, and it’s like life in a portable prison, a “Fat Cell”, so as to speak. Naturally I’m a big guy, I’m a big-framed, muscular, and unfortunately, I carry weight fairly well. When I went through basic training, I lost 50 lbs or 22.7 kg’s that is, I left basic training at 205 lbs/93kgs, which might have been great, but I felt sick. It wasn’t the right way to lose weight; the diet was unhealthy, I lost a lot of muscle because I stopped eating, you can only eat so many processed breaded pork sandwiches before you lose your appetite altogether…. In the subsequent years I have made up for all that I lost in the Army, and added a few/ a lot, for good measure. I LOVE FOOD! I love BBQ, pasta, breads, Coke, and butter, in great quantities. I’m a living testament to my love affair with food, in simple language, “I’m Fat!”, my weight might be acceptable if I were close to 7 ft. tall, but I’m only, roughly, 5’11” tall/short, whichever.
Yesterday I was flipping through Netflix trying to find some noise, so I could cook lunch when I ran across the movie/documentary Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead , I came out of the kitchen to watch when I heard an acoustic version of Men at Work’s “Down Under”, by Low Mass Tone. The movie was good and arresting; Joe and I have a lot in common (except he’s a rich and successful Australian). Pretty soon, though, the whole family, the two-year old included, were all enrapt, watching the journey of these vast, and vastly different men drastically changing their lives for the good. The method: going on a 60 day “Juice Fast”. They both lost tremendous amounts of weight, and gained healthier and more productive lifestyles. Needless to say it was motivating! So, being the desperate lemming that I am, I bought a juicer last night. We, my Wife and I, have decided to do a 60 day juice fast, starting tomorrow, July 7, 2011, or 7-7-11 sounds lucky enough…. Anyway, we are holding a celebratory last meal BBQ tonight. The menu is mostly Texas food inspired: BBQ brisket, chicken for the kids, cream potatoes, pinto beans, and maybe, grilled corn on the cob. After that, it’s juice for 60 days. I know this will be a rough journey; at least, that’s what I expect. We have determined not to tell anyone, and as no one reads this, it will be a safe to post on here. I have determined to use this blog as a journal of sorts. I will write if only briefly, every day. I will be keeping track of, not only, the amount of weight that I lose, but, of the difficulties as a self-proclaimed carnivore going on a strictly vegetarian juice diet. I’m sure it’s bound to be an enlightening journey and I’m excited to see the results….
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