Weightlessness
WARNING: Contains
foul language and disturbing imagery. Not to be consumed
whilst... consuming.
Some of you may know that EzBird has me on one of these new
fangled things called a “diet”. Well, I’m here to tell you that,
cheese aside, it’s not all that bad. See this is based on
lifestyle (sedentary to comatose), height (5’ 10” – and almost
that around the belly too; in truth I’m starting to look like a
bloody Christmas tree bauble…) and weight (17st 6lb when I
started, which is the heaviest I have ever been) and a website
that tells you what you should be doing – exercising more (or “at
all” in my case) and eating less. (Like I didn’t know.)
It seems that my calorie intake for my lifestyle and height may be a tad… high. According to the website if I want to lose weight (well, it’s not me really, it’s EzBird; she wants me to lose weight. Sigh.) I should be consuming no more than 2000 calories a day. Easy, I thought. Weeeeeeell… no. See before this “diet” do-woppy-thing I appear to have been consuming around about, and not in excess of, some where in the region of, um… *cough*… three, er, calories a day. Oh sorry, my mistake. I mean four. Thousand. Seven hundred and forty nine. Ish.
See bacon sandwiches for breakfast are all well and good and set you up well for the day but they just don’t last. Lunch could wander between MaccyD’s, The Colonel, Subway, Pizza hut or, if I was feeling righteous, another bacon sandwich. Not all on the same day of course. Well… except there was that one time… Anyway… Oh and on Thursday lunch it was “all you could eat for a fiver” at the local Thai restaurant and I’m a sucker for shredded duck. Not that I did that *every* week. That would be silly… *cough*
Then home for tea and whatever delights EzBird had cooked up for me. Or maybe a takeaway.
Then there were the weekends… obviously I don’t drink alcohol. Copiously. So no worries there then…
Not any more.
Now my diet hovers around 2000 calories. I still have a rice crispy square and I still have chocolate; one Rolo in my pack up because EzBird loves me (who made vomit sounds? Who was it? You know who you are! Go on, get out!) and a two finger (steady) kit-kat. I still have crisps; just the one packet though. But most of all I have a hand made salad (with salad cream, granted) of chicken, plum tomatoes, pea shoots, baby spinach leaves and red or yellow pepper. Every day. And you know what? It’s bloody handsome. We eat healthy in the evening too. So food is no longer an issue.
But…
I drink two litres of water every day. Two whole litres. I go to the loo every five bloody minutes and watch it change colour as the day progresses from a deep golden (de-hydrated) to an almost drinkable clear-with-a-duluxable-hint-of-yellow…
See, here’s something I just did not know; the signal “feed me” or “hunger” is the exact same signal for “I’m dehydrated, water me.” What’s the point of that?! Every time I got the munchies, and duly satiated same, it wasn’t bloody munchies! It was drinkies! I was thirsty, not hungry! It’s farcical! Talk about mixed sodding messages. You’d think biological evolution (unless you believe in creationism in which case you should blame God as opposed to blaming Darwin like I am about to…) would have made the two signals far more clear wouldn’t you? I mean, what if your diet only ever consisted of, er, dried food…? Hmm? You’d dehydrate to death… or something…
Anyway, not only that but also…;
I now park far away from work and it takes me ten minutes brisk walk up hill to get to my desk. (A journey I perform at lunch too. I must be mad.)
And I’m rewarded with what? The pleasure of sitting at my desk in my own sweat for five minutes, not daring to go downstairs to the gents because cold damp shreddies are ok when in situ but are gross when they return to position after a brief sojourn floorwards, and five minutes of terror waiting for the palpitations to turn to stabbing pains, for the pounding in my ears to turn to sirens and the flashing lights in my eyes to become blue – the same colour as my lips?
I figure it takes one and a half hours of sweat-free, are-you-sitting-comfortably, chewing and swallowing (easy girls) to chuck four thousand seven hundred and forty calories down your (well, “my”) gullet. A day. However, ten minutes of walking up hill until the sweat seeps through my expensive (£12 from Matalan) shirt and starts to wick into my even more expensive wool (but not a loose knitted) suit and the pedometer reads one and a half miles…vertically (ok, maybe I’m exaggerating but it bloody feels like it) and the calorie counter gloriously exhorts “Congratulations! You have burned 46 calories…” Forty-six?! Forty-fucking-six?! What I just farted would burn more than forty-fucking-six calories! I’m taking in two thousand of the insidious little bastards and nearly killing myself crossing busy roads and walking up half a mountain for forty-pigging-six calories burnt? Give me a break!
On hindsight, though, we decided the calorie counter may be buggered. I think it stopped working after I sat on it. And in four weeks I have lost 9lb’s…
Anyway, according to EzBird, next week I’m going to be jogging round the block after work. God help the local neighbourhood; if their houses didn’t have subsidence before I’m bloody sure they will afterwards.
So, keep an eye on the news and listen out for the words “seven point two”, “Richter scale” and “Kettering.”
Sigh.
Ez
You know what? I really need to post a blog about
writing...
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29 Comments
I recently hit 18 stone and, being the same height as you but obviously considerably broader, I decided I would be up for some serious excersise. Unfortunately, the wife wasn't. Could be the fact she's about 5' 6" and 9 stone. She reckons if I have a heart attack, in situ, as it were, that there was more chance of me surviving than her. I have to concede she may have a point.
So, knowing just how sweaty I was likely to become from any serious excercise, like say, walking up a flight of stairs or taking a wander up the pub (luckily I live in a bungalow not 5 mins from the pub), I took up swimming. Fuck me, it's expensive these days. Or maybe it's just me - maybe they saw me coming and added on a sur-charge for filling the pool back up with water again after I get out.
Dogging, no wait, dog walking has increased too and the woofer is well pleased. I'm his best pal now. Though he still sticks his head in her lap instead of mine at night. I do see the attraction, I'm just jealous 'cos she won't let me do the same. Something about trying to inhale her panties... dunno, my ears were ringing too loudly by that point and I couldn't tell what she was screaming at me.
I've stopped going to the pub for my customary 2 tea-time pints but am sure I'll make up for it at the weekend.
All in I've only put on 2lbs. Dead chuffed.
AW
It was a very, very tough diet. My brother insisted on doing a before-and-after video, and he shot them together. One minute you're looking at some jolly, wrestler-type gone to seed, a second later a lean greyhound of a man is standing in his place. Sure he's got a six pack - the only time in my life I ever had one. He also has the grim, drawn features of a Belsen refugee.
I subsequently found it helps if you have a girlfriend who can cook nice stuff that makes up for it's low fat-content by being extremely tasty.
There is a website and two books. I just thought I would mention it and I will slink away now.
But seriously, Ez, I admire your tenacity and look forward to a new profile pic of EzBlokeLite.
AW, you're so right. A girlfriend (wife) can make up for so much by being extremely tasty.
Maybe I'll go back to weights, my wife used to be shocking at parking so whenever we were in the city and she was driving I used to get her to just get the nose of the car as close to the parked car in front as possible. Then I'd get her to keep a foot on the brakes as I picked up the back end of the car and swung it 'round to park. Some of us are heavy for a reason. Saves on parking tickets too - Wardens are reluctant to hand them out when they see your method of parking.
Swimming sounds like a good idea. How many lengths do you have to do to lose weight?
*cough*
Ez
See, I've never been a chocoholic. Don't get me wrong I'll eat it but I don't *crave* it. Cheese on the other hand. Oh god, cheese... I miss my cheese. :o(
Nah. Not really. Everytime I miss cheese I remind myself that I used to be a fit 14st playing footy with my old mates and I miss that more than I miss cheese. Mmmmmmmmmmm cheeese. Oh god I miss cheese...
EzBird hides sweetie food in secret places like "cupboards". She knows I'll never go in them so she is safe.
:o)
Ez
I read somewhere that yoyo dieting was all the rage. Glad to see you're up with the latest trends!
I have to admit I am worried about the Belsen syndrome but I'm sure that it will be ok.
My biggest worry is the purchase of a new suit. Not because it doesn't fit me you understand but mostly because it's worn thin at the crotch from all the walking and the rubbing of thighs. (In the most non-sexual way possible.) I'm damned if I'm going to buy a new suit now when I know in a couple of months I'll out grow it and besides I'm sure the ventilation is helping me cool down...
:o)
I have heard of food combining - an unusual way of describing an exercise where it's exactly what you don't do...!
What I can't get my head round is how you make a tuna sandwich when you can't eat the tuna and the bread together...?
:o)
If I cut down to three meals a day not only will my body rebel but the local shop is also likely to go into receivership.
:o)
Kettering was on telly last night did anyone see?
Heston Blummin Blumenthal of all f'ing people have done up Little Chef and when does the local sodding branch open up? Only when I'm on a frigging diet!
No matter. My earthquake flat-footed job-stumbling will soon sort their plastic palace out! Bwa-ha-ha-haaaaaa. Or something...
:o)
LOL! Well at least you went for the "wide-load" pun as opposed to the planet-with-own-gravity-and-small-children-for-moons one...! Damn... maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that...
:o)
"And news just in; a Kettering man, thought to have been viciously attacked by a large gang, was in fact beaten to death by his own considerable breast flesh. The coroner initially recorded a verdict of death by jogging whilst heavily pregnant until it was pointed out that the body was that of a man in his mid-to-late twenties *cough* to which he was heard to reply "really? Are you sure?" The unnamed man has been buried in a local quarry after gravediggers threatened to go on strike if not paid treble time and danger money. In other news, the mysterious and unsettling series of earth tremors that had been bringing down houses in the area have suddenly ceased..."
lol
:o)
Welcome to The Word Cloud! And welcome to the dull trash that is the EzBlogs! Beware; once you pop (in) you can't stop (popping in.) It's like a train wreck and the gruesome necessity to watch the carnage that is inveiled. Some people are hooked. Others just tut and read something else. Most vomit. You have been warned...
I like you. I like your thinking. EzBird however hates you and my advice is avoid dark alleys and knife wielding midgets... only kidding. She's 5' 4" so technically she's not a midget. But she is a gem though... so... nah... that would just not be funny... :o)
It appears
that beers
Endeers
my cheers
But beers
it appears
gave me fat ears...
As for salad, we never use that word in our house. The term is Rabbit food. Although EzBird says wistfully that is "batteries" and I have no idea what she means.
:o)
Ah, reminds me of a Family Guy scene;
Meg (To Brian the talking dog) "Wow! You're looking good Brian. How'd you get so trim? Hmmm? How'd you lose that much weight? Hmmm. You're looking good. Very trim. Hmmm? How'd you do it? Hmmm? How'd you lose that much weight...?"
At this point Brian snaps and screams at her;
"Put the f****** fork down!"
:o)
I love family guy.
Woody and Dweens... get a room.
I think it is its political correctness that attracts me to it...
Oh yes. One other thing Ez. You don't have to blog about writing. A blog is writing.
I liked your naughty story and the responses are hilarious
win
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