Okay, So I Got Fat: Part III

I don’t like running.

I don’t get a “running high.” Those who say they do are repugnant liars.

For me, running serves a purpose – the purpose of getting rid of my horrible horrible belly. But with my goal weight inching ever closer (I expect to drop below 200 pound by the weekend) I risked the very real possibility of falling right off the wagon shooting back up to 240 pounds.

I assume it would go something like this: After stepping off of a scale that reads 199, I would immediately plan a celebration. Celebration requires cake, naturally. Because it would be a very personal celebration – my personal accomplishment – the cake would solely be for me. I imagine that I would lock myself in a room, probably in my underwear and a pointy party hat and eat the entire cake.

Now, eating an entire cake is an accomplishment in itself. You know what that means? More celebratory cake. Finish the cake, celebrate with another cake. The wonderfully chocolaty cycle will continue until the sobs of my girlfriend become too much for me to handle and I leave the locked room, 40 pounds heavier.

Okay, So I Got Fat: Part I

Why am I doing this?

Well, for the abridged version… I got fat. Like really fat. Like embarrassed to take my shirt off fat. And it’s not like it snuck up on me either. I’ve been moderately overweight since sophomore year of college and have stayed around 230-240 for the past four years. I just never had the drive to change anything.

That is until my “come to Jesus” moment on May 1st, 2009.

Now there were signs that things had gotten out of hand. Pictures from my friend’s wedding last Spring showed that my girlfriend attended said wedding not with her boyfriend, but pile of blubber that came a’calling when he heard about the buffet. When I needed to get a new suit for my younger brother’s confirmation, I was fitted for size 40 pants. I promised myself I would never hit that milestone and entertained the notion of walking into the church sans pants.

But on May 1st, things got real real.