Resolved
I woke up yesterday morning to find that my scale was having a little fun with me, a New Year's gag.
My scale has a healthy sense of humor. If my scale were a person, it would be fond of knock-knock jokes and shaggy dog stories. My scale would be a big hit at parties.
I was asking for it. In the past three weeks, I've been exploring the whole concept of comfort food and doing a lot of research. For a guy without much of a sweet tooth, I have to say I put some effort into it.
Still, it was a shock to see that I'd gained 12 pounds. It took me about an hour to realize this was just an attempt at humor by an inanimate object. Sure enough, that figure has been revised as of this morning to 5 pounds. Ha ha.
Five pounds is nothing, but the price of freedom is eternal vigilance, so I started induction. Induction is Atkinspeak for a carb starve, at a minimum two weeks of controlled-carbohydrate (less than 20 gm daily) eating, during which your metabolism switches from burning glucose to burning fat, your appetite decreases, your energy starts to soar, and you eliminate sugar, bread, potatoes, alcohol, pasta, and pleasure.
The only thing more boring than someone who likes to talk about weight loss and dieting is someone who likes to talk about Atkins. And I'm certainly no shill for this program; I tried it last winter for a couple of months, but keeping it interesting takes some effort and I'm a lazy guy.
And I've heard all the arguments agin. A lot of these are ignorant and/or intentionally misleading, some of them are off the wall, and some of them make sense. Not gonna get into it. As I say, I have no strong connection to the Atkins Diet, other than it worked.
I became a poster boy for controlled-carb eating. I lost 27 pounds in a month. In. A. Month. All the time eating constantly and feeling great. And when I slipped away, I had become a label reader and a conscious choice maker. If I wanted burritos or pizza or ice cream, I ate them, but I didn't want them all that often and I continued to lose. In other words, I invented the South Beach Diet. Like I'm going to get credit for that.
Getting fat was a brave new world for me. All my life, for the most part, I'd been either thin or at least average. At 32, I stopped running and tied myself to a desk and computer for 12 hours a day, and suddenly (and I mean suddenly) I had a closet full of clothes apparently intended for another species. I was a stranger in a strange land. I felt like stopping other fat people in the mall and asking for lessons. I had no clue how to walk or travel coach.
Dave Barry once wrote that, if you wonder if you're fat, just stand up straight, suck in your gut, and look out the window. If you live in America, you're fat (if you shop at Wal-Mart, you're probably really fat, but that's just a personal observation and the fact is, I don't care for crowds). We have an obesity epidemic in this country, with diabetes running amuck and our kids growing and not in a good way. America is waddling.
So I offer this to America: Stop eating so much. Do Atkins or South Beach or the South Park Diet, I don't care (listen: The "South Park Diet" idea is MINE MINE MINE!). Take it from a former fat guy. We all need to do our part, or else the terrorists will have won.
I start 2004 some 70 pounds lighter than 2003 (depending on the mood of my scale); I could stand to drop another 15, but I'm not scaring children or causing other riders to read the small print in the elevator. If I can do it, anybody can.
So start now. Eat less. Skip the fries. Take a walk. Vote for a Democrat. Drink lots of water. Eat more fruits and vegetables. Avoid going to Wal-Mart. Buy a hybrid. Recycle. Try eating more fish. Don't watch reality shows. Did I mention about voting for a Democrat? America is counting on you.
And buy a scale without a sense of humor. Trust me, it gets old.
5:19:29 PM 
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