If you follow me on Facebook you may be wondering what's up with all the Strava posts? Well, it all comes down to three little numbers.
2
9
1
All less than 10.
But when you put them together...
On May 13, I was putting the bathroom back together after having the floor re-tiled. On a whim, I decided to see what the scale would say when I stepped on it. I'm not normally a "scale person". I judge my health by which hole on my belt I happen to be using this week. Now I knew I was getting up there because there we less and less unused holes, but I took my usual attitude of, "Yeah I need to do something; eventually, I'll get around to it.". Then I stepped om the scale.
Two hundred and ninety one.
Ok. I am no doctor, but that was the highest I have every weighed.
I looked at that number and thought about the countless number of times in the past month, year, years I said to my self that I had to do something about my weight. But there was never any motivation to change habits, work at some exercise.
But this time when I looked at that number, I realized that even if I had no regard for my own health (and I do have some regard), the person most likely to be affected by my dropping dead of a stroke or a heart attack was my wife, starting her third year of chemo, for whom I am providing the health benefits. Therefore, I had to do something.
I started with a simple plan - eat less, don't eat between meals and walk for an hour a day. As I started to work out the details of this plan, I happened to run into this West Wing video while going down a YouTube rabbit hole one night. It's the scene where Leo McGarry is exit-interviewing the admin who outed Leo's rehab stint for pills and alcohol. The relevant dialogue starts at [2:00])(https://youtu.be/XFh8PoTa-40?t=120):
Admin: "So, after six and a half years, you're till not allowed to have a drink?"
Leo: "The problem is I don't want a drink; I want 10 drinks."
And that resonated with me: My name is Matthew Persico and I am a "foodaholic". When you want a cookie to take a cookie; I take a half sleeve. You get a slice of pizza, I eat three. You have a dish of pasta, I get a bowl, go back for seconds, and grab another spoonful as I am putting it into the fridge.
I get a Twinkie at the gas station every time I fill up a car. I get a Snickers or Payday or Baby Ruth every time I check out at the grocery store.
And when my wife goes to bed at 9pm, it's showtime! Put on three hours of Star Trek, First commercial: the aforementioned half-sleeve of cookies. Next break, fruit. Next break, peanut butter an jelly sandwich. Next break, crackers. Next break, ice cream. And on, and on, and on.
I do not mean to belittle anyone who has an actual medical diagnosis of addition; I am not medically classified and I am not a doctor. But if you cannot control your intake and you do your worst out of sight, that sounds to me like an addiction, no?
So, what do you do? You cannot stop eating, right? Of course, but look at alcoholism: you can still drink, just not alcohol. That is the path I took: I can still eat, just not as much as I was eating and not everything that I was eating.
I settled in on:
-
Breakfast - One serving of cereal with skim milk, possibly fruit topped or two eggs (with no more than three strips of bacon on Sundays).
-
Lunch - Two or three slices of turkey, a slice of swiss and a 70-calorie wrap for lunch. Absolutely no mayo. I'll use relish, pickles, mustard even cole slaw on occasion as a garnish.
-
Dinner - salad or steamed frozen vegetable plus whatever protein Donna wants - fish, chicken, steak, the occasional hamburger.
-
Dessert is one piece of fruit or a serving of cut berries.
And. That's. It.
Between meals, I take my sodastream and drop in a lime. No eating between. And certainly not between dinner and breakfast. In order to pull of that last bit, I've been going to bed at the same time Donna does so that I am not downstairs to get tempted to nosh.
Is it perfect? No. Occasionally I'll start watching Stat Trek or a Yankee game. The difference:
First break: pickle slice wrapped in a slice of swiss.
Second break: If I can't sit through the commercials, I go upstairs and call it a night.
So, what is the result if all this? Look for yourself:
| Week | Date | Weight | Week Loss | Cumul. Loss | Weekly Avg. Loss | Notes |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 0 | 05/13 | 291 | ||||
| 1 | 05/20 | 282 | 9 | 9 | 9.0 | |
| 2 | 05/27 | 277 | 5 | 14 | 7.0 | |
| 3 | 06/03 | 274 | 3 | 17 | 5.6 | |
| 4 | 06/10 | 267 | 7 | 24 | 6.0 | |
| 5 | 06/17 | 263 | 4 | 28 | 5.4 | |
| 6 | 06/24 | |||||
| 7 | 07/01 | 259 | 4 | 32 | 4.4 | |
| 8 | 07/08 | 254 | 5 | 37 | 4.5 | |
| 9 | 07/15 | 250 | 4 | 41 | 4.4 | |
| 10 | 07/22 | 243 | 7 | 48 | 4.8 | |
| 11 | 07/29 | 239 | 4 | 52 | 4.7 | |
| 12 | 08/05 | 237 | 2 | 54 | 4.5 | Veselka, Viniero's and Yankee Stadium |
| 13 | 08/12 | |||||
| 14 | 08/19 | |||||
| 15 | 08/26 |
I'm down from waist size 48 to 38 and shirt size from teetering on the edge of 3xl down to an xl. I can walk long distances without strain (as long as the humidity is reasonable). I feel much more comfortable, have so much more energy and don't loathe mirrors anymore. And, apparently, the Strava posts are serving as inspiration for two people I know to work on their own fitness.
Most importantly - I'm much less likely to drop dead and leave my wife without insurance.