I've only just begun....TO HURT

Yes ladies and gentlemen...yours truly climbed aboard the old scale in my master bedroom, and was aghast at seeing the number 280 staring back at me. After I was disarmed by my wife of sharp implements as I was trying to end my life right there on the spot, I made a decision to--pardon the French--GET OFF MY ASS AND DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!!!!!!!!!!!! I've had a membership to 24HR Fitness for about 8 years, and actually VERY successfully used it 7 years ago to lose a ton of weight and get in the best shape of my life (thanks to Bill Phillips and Fit for Life!!!). But then...CHILDREN happened. And stress. And a promotion. Yeah. Before I knew it--5 years later to be exact--I had gained 40 pounds....AND...I've gained 60 since I was married in 1995. 60. SIXTY!!! The freakin' number that comes after 59!!!!!!!! 60!!!!!!!!!!!

FAT ASS!! I know I know...the number 1 thing I've doing by deriding myself is going against all conventional wisdom that says you should LOVE yourself and be KIND to yourself, yadda yadda yadda. Whatever. I'm fat. I can't deny it. I'm tellin' ya the truth. Fat. And HORRIBLY out of shape. Well...after a couple of lurches and false starts over the last few months...let me tell you about my work outs.

Last week...worked out on Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. All early morning. All at the 24hr Fitness in Brea (where the old Brea Improv used to be...where I liked to hang out and dream that someday maybe...wait...never mind....I'm not funny). THIS week, the Orange County Fire Authority started a 2 day a week Tues/Thurs in the parking lot circuit training using medicine balls, those big ass balls that you sit on, then these other balls called "slam balls"...and by just doing in place lunges, squats and various exercises...in 45 minutes....I was yelling "I WANT MY MOMMY!!!!" Holy CRAP on a plate. I was sweating my ass off. I'm actually getting ahead of myself. I worked out Monday morning at 24hr Fitness, then did the first day of this circuit training madness at work, then, Wednesday morning, did a REAL good work out even though my body felt like I had been hit by a truck from the previous day's workout...and then...TODAY. Thursday. During lunch, I head on down early, and this crazy exercise physiologist expert ran our butts through even MORE exercises. I had NO idea that one could hurt oneself so exquistitely by barely moving. I thought you like had to run a freakin' marathon. NO!!!! Actually, a marathon would be easier probably.

So...I'm now in my office. A little lightheaded. Very sore, especially my fat quadriceps and my hugmungous RUMP. But I hear pain is good. And that for all that pain, muscle is building, and for all that muscle building, it needs fat for energy. Well...in THAT case...you just go on little sore muscles, build away and chew up my fat. I would like to someday entertain the possibility that hanging on to my 38 inch pants was not in vain!!!

Oh...and by the way. People have known me to be a giant Diet Coke whack. I am. Or. Was. I'm off of it. No more. That aspartame sweetner is too suspicious for me. Heard it's been linked with lots of strangeness in the human body, one of which is, strangely, WEIGHT GAIN!!! So I'm off of it. COMPLETELY. Lots of water. My head hurts. Constantly. But I've had three seperate people tell me that once your body figures out you're not drinking that crap anymore, BAM! There goes the weight. WHATEVER. All I know...is by the end of January, if I don't see the magic number 275 on my scale, I swear to GOD I'm looking for the nearest cliff.