See, yesterday I decided to count my calories all day. I’d been doing the gym thing, yet gaining no ground when it came to the scale. Bothersome. I added the Mountain Dew I pulled from the ‘fridge as breakfast. My hobbit-like second breakfast of a blueberry muffin and a mocha latte. My salad for lunch. The pair of cookies and the Mountain Dew after that. The McDonalds for dinner. Some M&Ms and a Mountain Dew for a snack.

The thing is, I don’t really know how it happened. I mean, my God… look at that list. Outside of a salad for lunch, am I even a little bit serious?!? I need to deal with the reality of my denial. And what’s worse, there’s a part of me that, in writing that, doesn’t believe I’m in denial. That even though I’ve put back 30 of the 85 pounds I’d lost, I’m still fine. I’m okay.

My jeans are tight.

I don’t wear an XL shirt anymore.

I’m back to my second notch in the belt, not the third.

I’m in denial.

I’m leaving for the gym now.

ps, 277 on the scale and yesterday I ate a grand total of 4327 calories. Ain’t no denying it.

This morning I’ve hit the gym and, due to construction being over (I think? there were still road cones, but no burly dudes) I got in a great workout. Squats, arnold presses, triceps pushdowns, biceps reverse curls and pec flys. And now I’m on my lunch break where I’m snacking on steamed broccoli, a pear, eight ounces of pineapple, some string cheese for protein, and my water. Though in the interest of full disclosure I must admit to enjoying a mocha latte and blueberry muffin this morning.

Tomorrow I’ve got a work meeting at 7:30. I guess I’ll hit the gym afterward, though perhaps I’ll sneak some lifting in over my lunch hour, then run after work? Not sure yet. Not sure what The Gal has planned either, which may necessitate a bit of a shift. We’ll see.

Didn’t weigh in this morning. Kind of forgot to in my rush to beat traffic on my way to the gym.

Big focus to remember: Be a Weekend Warrior.

Taking time off and losing my muscle strength and endurance has been tough on me. In addition to watching the number on the scale rise, I’ve seen my waistline, by way of my belt notch, expand and I’ve had to deal with the failures of attempted returns wherein the reality of time off manifested itself in being able to lift fewer pounds for less repetitions. Brutal all around.

But now, with these several gym appearances, things are starting to go my way. I’m starting to look like a plucky baseball team, who, rather than employ the longball to score with one hit, needs to string together several smaller successes. Running out the grounder. Stealing second. Hit-and-run the man to third. And even bunting, as I did this morning with my abbreviated lifting.

Momentum is back on my side. This big train is starting to roll again. Cheesy, cliched metaphor here. Point is, I’m not feeling like I’m stuck on the bench, looking into the game anymore. I’m back on the field, making plays, working to achieve victory.

270.9

ps, I ran for 45 minutes last night. Even pushed through and kept going when a stitch in my side appeared around the 20-minute mark. Made it 5k/3.4 miles. Not all hope is lost!

I stopped going up early. Then I convinced myself to get a membership at a more local gym. I went in the morning once. Then I convinced myself that I could instead work out in the evenings. Turns out that means that either dinner isn’t until 7:30, or I’m kicking The Gal out by 8:30 or I’m going really late, like around 10:30. Well, the really late option just didn’t work. By that point in the evening, I’d decompressed and become comfortable on the couch or reading or whatever. My low-blood sugar made the former option fail (I’d find myself binging when I tried this as my body needed fuel) and the middle one… well I guess I just never liked that option at all.

Then came a Great Idea, in an unexpected form. Road construction.

Turns out that my route is under construction. Leaving at my normal time to reach the office by 9, I was met by a throng of commuters. Suddenly my 85-minute commute turned into something around two hours. Brutal.

The solution?

Leave sooner. Avoid the rush. Avoid the traffic. Avoid the slow-downs.

Turns out that to avoid the rush/traffic means that I have to leave at 6. That puts me in the area at 7:30. My options then become 1) spend more time at work, or 2) work out.

I did some big lifting last week. I’ve lost tons of muscle endurance, though my actual lifts are still decent. I’m still strong. I just sweat more and tire sooner.

So be it.

I went again this morning. Did some deadlifts, some hip sleds, some Arnold presses and some hammer curls, then showered and went to work.

I miss having a buddy, but I’m thrilled to be back, taking care of business.

Now that that business is outta the way, I want to get to something that happened in Chicago. Something amazing and different and new and old and scary and exciting.

For the first time since 8th grade, I went swimming.

Swimming people.

And without a “swimming shirt” or other shameful tool of denial.

We were looking for coolers when we got to town to put our beers in for the weekend and decided to all pick up swimming suits. The next morning I woke up early and went to the hotel’s gym. I ran on the dreadmill, then knocked out a few sets in the weight room while I saw my buddies come into the pool area. I thought about it for a moment, worried what they (and others. and myself.) would think of me in a swimsuit. Then I realized, “hey – I’m denying myself my life. I’m not allowing myself to live.” Eff that! So I strapped on the new suit, then went down and just jumped right in. Splash!

Dude. I was so happy. So frigging happy. Swimming! I was allowing myself to enjoy life, and while I’m still working to slim down, I’m not going to let my obesity run my world any more.

I can barely write this stupid post. It’s been on my mind for days. However, when I first thought of it, the title was going to be Twenty, as in the twenty pounds I’ve regained since losing 85 to begin with. But as of tonight, I’d have to retitle that post Twenty-One.

Twenty-one fucking pounds.

Do you know how long it took me to lose that? How long I was stuck on 263, then on 256? How thrilled I was when I broke into the 240s, with a personal-best 247? That was *so hard*. Nights of sleep cut short. Miles and miles run. Thousands of pounds lifted.

I’m scared to go back there. Scared to try and go in the other direction. That momentum is a killer. I don’t know what to do to stop my current trend and reverse course.

Oh sure, I mean I KNOW what to do. Drink water. Get rest. Go to the gym. Lift weights. Do some extra cardio. Cut out the soda, the pasteries, the high-fat foods like pizza. Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. So why can’t I? Why can’t I do it like I could a year ago? What’s changed?

I don’t know. Nothing. Everything. This shouldn’t be this hard. This could be lots harder. Why could I find the willpower to fight before, and I no longer can?

God, I’m such a hypocrite. I wrote in my last post how to set goals. Know what I didn’t write? How to ACCOMPLISH them.

I’m still not sure just yet. Not sure what to do/say/write. I know that this week will be very hard. I’ve got a stressful couple of projects at work. I’ve got a trip out of town for four or five days.

This can’t become 25. It just can’t. I’ve worked too hard to lose it all to my old self.

I have to fight again. I have to get back up and swing. Keep swinging. I can’t give up.

Please, let me find the fire to win again. Please.

268.7

Nope.

Somehow I got into a weird tiff-like thing with her over the phone. When we hung up I just kind of sat there, unsure what happened or where we were headed. After that I somehow managed to get into a text-message argument (I know, right?) with a friend of mine. He’d said that Filet-o-Fish sandwiches weren’t that bad, and were loaded with Omega-3s. Rather than take his word, I went to nutritionaldata.com and checked. No Omega 3, and 470 calories per sandwich. I shoot him the facts and he melts down on me, asking me if I’m satisfied with myself. After that I received notice of an event that I wasn’t expecting. I questioned the director regarding how the event occurred and saw what I thought was a passive-aggressive post to an entire group of friends calling my actions out rather than talking to me directly, which has seemingly spiraled out of control.

Was last night a full moon? Was my bestial side coming to the fore? Am I a bigger douche than I’d care to be?

Don’t know.

I’ve been able to put the situation with The Gal to bed, but after sending an apology to my friend I haven’t heard back (I’m trying to give him the space to accept the apology with grace and charity, but I’m feeling distressed by his lack of response), and I have no idea what to think about the event issue. I don’t think it’s solved, but I also think that it’s kind of gotten to a point where I can’t wrangle it back — I’ve apologized directly on that issue too, but that’s about all I can do unless I had a Delorian.

Ever dream of losing a bunch of weight? Of being thin? Of looking good in swimwear on the beach? I have. I do all the time, actually. I like to think of these dreams as goals, though recently I’ve come to realize that without a plan, goals are just dreams with a more mature name. So, how can I do a better job this time? How can I really achieve these goals (dreams) of mine?

It starts with a plan.

That’s the difference between a dream and an achievable goal. I can dream I can fly like Superman, but the reality is that flying is an unachievable goal, and that truth becomes clear once you sit down to actually try to realize the dream.

Weight loss, however, is not unachievable. There are lots of blogs out there that document the achievement, from The Anti-Jared to Jack Sh*t, Gettin’ Fit to F Daddy Rants. They’ve done it, they continue to do it. These blogs excite me! They’re proof that the dream — my dream — is actually an achievable goal!

How to Set Goals

So, how does one go from dreaming to achieving? By setting a goal. Not some random, uncollected thoughts floating around that are a bit vague (I want to be thin!), but rather by being explicit with what you want, and more importantly as I’ve come to find out, how you’re going to get there.

First – Be specific. You need to clearly articulate your goal. Being thin isn’t a goal, it’s a concept. Think about what “I want to be thin” actually means. What *exactly* is your goal?

Second – Make the goal(s) measurable. This ties in with the first, but expands it. If I define “being thin” as weighing 185 pounds, then looking here I can say “I’ll lose 75 pounds” as I’m currently 260.

Third – Make the goals your own. I think that this is one of those elements in goal-setting that can easily get lost. Maybe your wife wants you to lose weight, or even more confusing, you *think* your wife wants you to lose weight. That’s not your goal, that’s hers. Be sure your goal is YOUR goal. Own it. You’ll feel better about it.

Fourth — Set a time limit. That’s what this blog is all about actually. See, I told myself that my goal was to lose 150 pounds when I was 335. That’s good; the goal is my own, it’s measurable and it’s specific. The problem? Here I am 20 months after starting to achieve my goal and I’ve not yet achieved it. I guess I sort of thought I’d be done by now, but I never really put a time limit on my goal, so it’s still just kind of out there. Shouldn’t I be done by now?!?

Fifth – Put your goal in writing. I realize that writing down a specific, measurable goal is scary. Honestly, I’ve been doing the weight loss thing for 20 months now, I have a sense of how I’m going to accomplish my goal, yet putting it in writing here is still a bit anxiety-inducing. Why? Because by putting it in writing I make it real. I make it something to which I am accountable. If I write it down I own it, good or bad. And that means I can succeed — or fail.

So those are the key ingredients in setting goals. Now that I’ve laid that out, I’m going to do two things: I’m going to write down MY goals, and I’m also going to encourage you to write down yours. Add them to the comments section of this post. Put them on your blog and link to it in the comments. Email me directly from this site. Tweet at me! Just make it happen. Make your goals something you can work to achieve. Make them real.

My Goal

I want to be thin, which to me, on my body, is 185 pounds. That means my goal is to lose 75 pounds. I will lose, on average, two pounds a week, which will take 37.5 weeks to accomplish. That puts my target date of achieving my goal at November 17th, 2010.

***

Finally, I’ve got to give credit where it’s due; my understanding of goals, goal-setting, and accomplishing goals has been helped dramatically by Dave Ramsey. Dave is primarily a financial advisor, giving financial advice to those in debt. For those who subscribe to his debt methodology, I’m on Baby Step 2, with only my car note to go.

I will be using this username and new account (I’ve got a different Twitter account for other things) to focus primarilly on my weight loss and the weight loss community. I’ll be dropping weight-loss bloggers from my other account and move them to this one.

If you’re part of that community, please follow me and help me build my follow list — I’m very eager to talk to you, and I’m going to need all the support I can get!