Day 48-50 - Halloween Is Evil and Inspiration From Out Of Nowhere

I'm under 250. It took what seemed like an eternity to arrive, and I'm not taking any time to dwell. A brief pat on the back is all I'm willing to give myself. As pleased as I was to see a number in the 240's, I knew that if I took too much time to enjoy the moment, I could easily slip into the 250's again in the blink of an eye. This is a permanent change, the 250's are a memory, and it's time to focus on the next benchmark.

With Halloween quickly approaching, I was hoping to simply avoid handing out candies to all the kids this year. I generally fall victim to one of the most common blunders when distributing the treats to the costumed youngsters, by giving them two or three and taking one for myself. By the end of the night, we could have counted how many visitors we had by simply tallying the empty wrappers. And that's not taking into account the days leading up to the 31st. We would buy a small box of bite sized treats for our own use, only to bring home another, and then another. The big day would arrive, and we would have go out to get another box for the evening, this one slightly larger in order to accommodate the flood of ankle-biters, only to be left with even more treats than the smaller box would have provided. This year, we've refrained from the frequent stockpiling and gorging, and the small amount we purchased looks as though it will last. I can't say that I've been completely innocent, but it's a definite improvement over past years. My goal for this week is to simply maintain my weight, by balancing these little treats with even more activity. It's almost sickening to think of how much sugar I would have ingested had my intake remained the same as before. The small amount that I've already allowed myself has already caused me to wake up with a "sugar hangover", and guaranteed a limit on my confectionery desires. It's interesting how something that had such a tight grip on me has become easier to ration and even resist. The last caller of the night will get a hearty helping, as there'll be no leftovers this year.

I spent this past weekend helping out at my friend's booth at a convention. I was very much out of my element, and it allowed me to remain a spectator, a fly on the wall. There were the occasional few that would come by and strike up a conversation that I could participate in, but for the most part I had very little knowledge to share. I used the opportunity to interact with people I may not ordinarily have had the chance to, and learn a few things. Not necessarily about what they do, but why they do it. I knew that I would be lost trying to converse, so I spent most of the weekend listening. While clusters of strange names and foreign terminology rocketed past my ears, I found myself getting caught up in, and excited by what they were saying, though I may have had no idea what they were talking about. The passion that these people exhibited for their craft was commendable, and it was contagious. I felt enthusiastic, because they were all so zealous in how they spoke, and it moved me to approach my own goals with more fervor than ever. And though they likely had no inkling of it, they taught me to approach my desires with a more open mind and light heart. I knew it was going to be an interesting weekend, but I wasn't expecting to come away from it feeling invigorated about my desires of fitness and good health. Sometimes the greatest motivation can come from the most unlikely of sources.

Having been on my feet for hours upon hours this past weekend, I didn't get much cardio accomplished, but I still felt good about how far I've progressed over these past 50 days. 12 pounds down in a 7 week span has me on a 1.5lb/week pace, which seems very respectable. The trend is heading in the right direction, and I generally feel good. My clothes are starting to feel a little loose, and it helps that the weather has allowed me to cover up with my large sweaters again. I know they're not always flattering, but they're comfortable. Now that yet another week is underway, I've got to keep my workout routine as consistent as ever, and have my mind focused on keeping my body honest. The 230's aren't as far away as I think.

Day 44-47 - Eating At Restaurants and A New Addiction

I've discovered over the course of my life so far, that I possess quite an addictive personality. Once I get my mind focused on something, it utterly consumes me. I've lived a life of excess because of it, small doses of anything rarely satiate me, and I've had to learn to exercise moderation in every aspect of my life. I've been good with the food and drink up to now, with the occasional blip of weakness, but they are few and far between. I've even cut down my computer time substantially in the evenings. However, a new addiction has presented itself recently. Something I didn't even think was possible, but knowing how I operate, nothing is surprising anymore. I've become addicted to weighing myself, even though it's a horribly frustrating and unsatisfying experience. When I decided to stop weighing myself on a daily basis because of it's detrimental effect on my psyche, the first night and next day were not a problem. But then my mind began to wander, and I felt the need to step on the scale 2 days after I stopped. "Why did I do that?", I thought aloud. Another 2 days passed, and I was once again jonesing to check my weight. I refrained, but soon the desire became too great and I submitted, again drawing frustration from the result. I've enlisted the help of my lovely wife for this one, and I'm having her hide the scale. Only allowing it's use once a week is the stipulation, and I'm going to have to deal with that. I'm sure this will simply be a case of "out of sight, out of mind".

I was faced with another food challenge recently. I was offered the chance to head out to a pizza place for lunch, which I initially resisted due to all the temptations that particular restaurant holds for me. (Pizza is my Kryptonite. If you've never sampled a Perogy Pizza, it may change your life.) All it took to convince me to go was a quick squint and a shrug of the shoulders from my co-workers. "Come on!", I was urged. I thought that I was doomed, but as I perused the menu, I found a grilled chicken sandwich and soup. My customary order would have been a pizza of some sort, or barring that, a baked pasta dish accompanied by a Caesar salad. I think someone should change the name of the Caesar salad, as it is very misleading. The word "salad" immediately brings to mind thoughts of fresh veggies and healthiness. Throw "Caesar" in front of that word, and you've got a tasty dish comprised of high-calorie, high-fat dressing, bacon, croutons, and oh yeah, some lettuce. It's closer to chip dip than salad. The point of this story is that you can find healthier options at most restaurants, even one's with "Pizza" in their names, and trying to eat better doesn't require you having to neuter your social agenda.

I've become more consistent with my workouts again. Making sure to schedule a period of activity at least once a day has become a lot easier than I thought it would have been. The weekends are the toughest, but as long as I can set aside at least 30-45min, I feel as though I've accomplished something. All I have to do is stay the course, and I will be rewarded. At the advice of a loyal reader, and weight-loss inspiration in his own right, I'm going to bump up the strength training a notch. I can feel my legs getting stronger with each passing day, but I've got to take care of the total package.

On a final note, I've become unable to draw much inspiration from The Biggest Loser show anymore. A contestant purposely gained weight to get someone else voted off the show. It was a cunning tactic, though executed poorly, that worked to perfection. However, it was very clear that this show was no different than any of the other "get-rich-quick reality shows", of which I've grown quite tired. Thankfully I've got many other sources to draw inspiration from; family, friends, and you, the reader. I know you're out there, you're holding me accountable for my actions, and for that I am grateful.

Day 40-43 - Heavy Dessert and a "Surprise"

Not having stepped on the scale for a few days, my anticipation was high for the now weekly weigh-in. I had worked hard, and deserved a lower number. In fact, I was running longer distances at a time, and feeling much more comfortable doing so. The excess bulk seemed a little less prominent with each passing step as I bounded down the rubber pathway. Less pulling, shaking, and jiggle seemed to put an extra spring in my step. I could feel the difference, and it was so invigorating, it actually kept me running for even longer than I'd planned. So after a solid week of eating right and working my body very hard, I allowed myself to step on that scale to put a number to all this effort. Then came the surprise. And I'm not referring to the surprise you feel when you put on your winter jacket and find a ratty $20 bill in the front pocket. More along the lines of a snap kick to the groin. Well, this felt more like a slap in the face. Either way, I gingerly placed my feet on the chilled metal surface of the digital scale, and glanced down to see that my weight had increased. More than the last week, and more than the week before. I've since rationalized the situation, but I wouldn't be much of a self-journalist if I simply glossed over the feelings of that moment. It hurt. It hurt badly. I worked really hard to ensure that I'd be able to permanently bid adieu to the 250's, but there I stood, dumbfounded and set back. My heart felt heavy, my shoulders slumped, and I shuffled out the door. You may be thinking, "Come on, it's only one pound", but it's a gain when there should have been a loss. I was dissecting every moment over the past week where I could have gone wrong, and I realized something. When I fastened my belt, I went yet a notch tighter. That's two since the start, and the next I will have to create myself. Proof, once again, that the scale alone isn't the almighty judge of health and fitness. It still doesn't explain how I managed to gain weight, but I won't become concerned unless this trend continues.

And now, an incident of mammoth proportions. By "incident" I mean "dessert", and by "mammoth proportions" I mean "mammoth portions". A friend of ours was in the city, so my wife and I decided to attend a mid-afternoon lunch with her at one of our favourite "soup and sandwich" eateries. I stuck to my guns and kept it simple, but the other two indulged in a dessert to take home. As we arrived home, I hoisted the small container of sugary delight, but couldn't believe the weight it carried. A simple dessert to be sure, bread pudding is indeed a sight to behold. As I carried the dense little cake into the house I couldn't help but wonder how much a "single serving" of bread pudding weighed. I do own a food scale, but this dish would have pinned it to the limit. I pulled out the heavy artillery and placed the deceptively compact treat on the "people" scale. 1.6 pounds of bread, cream, sugar, and eggs smashed into a 4" square. Jaw-dropping, unbelievable, amazing. I could list a smattering of adjectives here, but you get the picture. We all shared a hearty laugh as they sat down to conquer Mt. Pudding. As I watched them chip away, I didn't feel one pang to join in the fun. We sat, we talked, and sooner than later it was gone. Needless to say, they were feeling quite full after that dense, candied feast.

I'd pushed myself very hard for this past while, so I gave myself a well-earned day away from the treadmill. I still hit the mat, but I had to give my legs a much needed break. It has been said that a day of rest can be just as important as a hard workout, so I'm going to test that theory. But I'll be back pushing myself hard very soon, and though I understand that the scale is not the be-all-end-all of gauging my health and fitness levels, I still desire a lower number for my efforts. Next week...it's going to happen, I can feel a big jump coming. It has to.

Day 36-39 - Nachos, Cheese, and Amazement At The Grocery Checkout

Whether you're the host or the guest, entertaining friends usually involves food. There may be the occasional veggie platter, but it is customary to provide sugary drinks accompanied by fatty snacks. Adopting a healthier lifestyle shouldn't mark the elimination of visiting with friends, but it does symbolize the end of the late night chips, dips, cheese, crackers, and soda. The last weight-loss attempt had me completely avoiding social gatherings for fear of relapse, but this time I would have to learn to sit on my hands, and keep them out of the chip bowl. Visiting with friends this past weekend, it was determined that snacks were a necessity midway through the night. They graciously asked if I was going to be alright with this, knowing full well of my struggles. Not wanting to damper the festivities, I gave my approval, though not knowing how I would fare. I'd been able to resist similar temptations recently, but this situation was slightly different. It was a very small group, just the four of us, seated around a table playing cards and chatting. I'm very comfortable around these people, and they are of a select few in my life that make everything "OK". They have the ability to be very influential in decisions I may be struggling with, (meaning, they can turn up the peer pressure and I'll likely submit). So we went off to gather their supplies, Slurpees and nachos with cheese. Ironically enough, as we sat around the table with them dipping and devouring, the hot topic of conversation was my ongoing battle to resist the very thing they were eating and enjoying. It wasn't so bad to begin with, but it rapidly became to much to bear. Near the end of the feast, I sneaked to the kitchen and grabbed a stack of chips, quickly stuffing them in my mouth hoping no one would notice. I immediately felt a sense of failure sweep over me. I had taken pride in the discipline I had exercised over the past weeks, and it seemed to vanish in one split-second of weakness. I had to step back from the situation to keep myself from becoming completely disheartened. I realized once again, there's no letting up and there's no giving up. Even though I may have stumbled, I still have to get back up and keep going, no matter what sort of setbacks I may encounter. I've turned my shame into a lesson learned, and for that I feel more well-equipped to handle these adversities.

Later in the week, I shuffled to the fridge to find that provisions were running low, and I'd have to make a stop at the grocery store. It's not usually a complicated visit, normally beginning and ending in the same area. With all of the distractions and impulse items meticulously placed throughout the store, even a short trip to buy fruits and vegetables can be a test of will. I gathered up a week's worth of fresh produce, and bustled past the bulk food aisle where the urge to snag a solitary M&M or candied peanut thankfully subsided as quickly as it materialized. I made it to the cashier's line unscathed, began unloading my botanical delight onto the slightly stained rubber belt, and as I waited for the family in front of me to finish up, I took note of their bounty. Bags of chips, bottles of soda, boxes of cereal, pre-fab dinners, snack bars, puddings, and crackers. Not a fruit or vegetable in sight. As the cashier began to weigh and bag my items, she sent me a glance and a smirk. "These are the healthiest groceries I've seen all day.", she told me. This isn't the first time I've been notified of this. In fact, given the right circumstances (a friendly, talkative cashier), I'm confronted about my choice of comestibles more often than not. It really shouldn't be that way, but it is for many reasons, namely cost and convenience. The total cost for my week's worth of fresh produce rivaled that of the family of three that had just preceded my place in line. Already operating on a tight budget, I've had to modify my lifestyle in more ways than just food intake and activity to make this healthy adjustment. I have to look at these fresh foods as an investment towards my good health. Sacrificing materialistic luxuries to be able to afford to eat healthier is just another adjustment that had to be made. It may be more cost effective in a monetary sense to buy cheap, fast and unhealthy food options, but at what cost to one's health?

On that note, I have been negligent to my workouts for the past few days. I'm unsure whether it is because of fatigue, or sheer laziness, but either way, I'll have to step it up again starting immediately. I've also stopped recording my weight on a daily basis. Seeing the number haphazardly jump around was becoming an increasingly frustrating aspect in an already irritating process. Weigh-ins will be relegated to Monday mornings, and that is that. I'm pushing to be into the 240's by the next weigh-in, and I'll also begin taking measurements on a monthly basis for more encouragement and incentive. Where the scale may fail me at times, hopefully the tape measure will provide a more positive outlook. The snail-like pace of this process is taking it's toll on me, but I must remain patient and persistent if I want this to be a permanent change.

Day 31-35 - Take Two Bites When One Will Do

One month behind me, and nearly 10 pounds lighter. Even though it feels like I've been at a standstill as of late, the overall numbers don't lie. I'm still heading in the right direction, but I would like to see some lower numbers on that scale in the coming weeks. Some reward for the effort that I'm putting forth. My clothing is a little looser, my belt a notch tighter, and my wedding band is feeling a little more free around my finger. I had my ring sized around this weight during the last weight-loss attempt, and it once again fits as it should. The scale seems to be crawling along, hovering, wanting to once again breach the 250 mark. It's not from a lack of effort. I'm keeping active, and my intake has been steady and honest. My fitness has improved, and I feel better on my skates with yet another game behind me. I have to practice what I preach; patience will pay.

I've learned many valuable lessons over the past month. Though some may seem like "common sense", I've generally found that "common sense" isn't all that common. For example, chewing your food prior to swallowing it. Sounds simple enough, right? I seem to have been bred to eat in a panic. Growing up, our dinner table meetings were usually brief and intense. A well-cared for and lovingly prepared meal would be obliterated in mere minutes, equivalent to a school of maniacal pirahnas viciously attacking their unsuspecting prey. The ratio of preparation time to the time taken for consumption could easily have been 8:1 or even 12:1, absurd numbers. This is something I never really thought of, even when we had company over. The four of us would always finish our meals well ahead of the competition, however there were no medals to be awarded for this feat. Just heartburn. Now as an adult, being more aware of how the general public eats, I've had to try and adjust my eating habits accordingly. I've attended meals where I've been looking for the bill and my complimentary mint, while the other guests are savouring the fourth bite of their main course. Not only is it horrible etiquette and somewhat embarrassing, it's poor for digestion. I've been trying to make a conscious effort to slow down when I'm eating. I'd grown accustomed to scarfing down fistfuls of food at blinding speeds, and had to find a way to wean myself off this detrimental habit. I've started by doing something that seems very simple, but is a step overlooked by most "power eaters". Put down the fork between each bite. Very simple, yet very difficult. Don't hold the sandwich in your hands while you're chewing. Put it down after every bite, chew, swallow, THEN pick it up again. It seems so trivial, so easy to file under "common sense", but after nearly 30 years of "power eating", I'm finding it very hard to re-train myself. I'm combining that trick with taking smaller bites. What I used to consider one bite, is now two. The start of a meal is the critical moment to instill this practice. Many factors can turn the tide from logic to instinct when food is involved, so I must remain lucid through even the toughest of temptations.

Emotional hunger is overpowering. It's extraordinarly difficult to control, yet it must be stopped. I'm constantly trying to train myself to be less mentally attached to eating, but it's a very difficult process. It's even worse that I understand why it happens, but still feel overwhelmed when I have the "need to feed". I'm constantly at war with my emotions and my mind, knowing that my mouth and brain crave something my body doesn't require. There have been times where I've finished a meal, and while staring down at the empty plate, I don't remember having lifted my fork. Sitting down with a bag of cookies or chips, and not long afterward it's been completely emptied. In minutes, this robotic, automated style of eating has put away thousands of calories, and for what purpose? I'm relentlessly reminding myself that I eat to feed my body, not for fun, and I hope I can continue to follow my own advice. Soon enough that scale will dip into the 240's, and I'll cinch my belt one notch tighter.

Day 26-30 - Frustrations and Staying The Course

Let's just say that I'd seen better days. I was involved in what can best be described as a nearly catastrophic computer issue, coupled with a crushing blow to my self-esteem. It wasn't the best start to what should have been a great weekend.

The scale dipped below the 250 mark for the first time, and I was feeling positive about the hard work I'd been putting forth. And even though I knew it would only be temporary, I also knew that having it permanently settle in the 240's wasn't that far off. I had a taste of it, and I wanted more. However, it would have to wait for a little while longer because it was Thanksgiving weekend, and the anticipation of the meals to follow outweighed my small contact with the 240's. Not to say that portion control and good sense were going to be completely forgotten, but I wasn't about to deny myself what would likely be the final celebration of food until late December. This weekend was customarily one that would leave me reeling from the sheer intake I would overload myself with. It wouldn't have been an uncommon notion to have gained 6-8 pounds over the course of this 72 hour span, I'm sure I had done it before. But this time I knew I had to have self-control. I didn't want throw away all I had accomplished up to this point for one weekend of gluttonous bingeing. But, there were forces working against me, namely myself.

I received a message from someone on the morning of Day 27, posing a very strange request. They had wanted me to model for a calendar, featuring men of "less than fit body types". Now, I'm a funny guy, and I poke fun of myself on occasion, but I don't like the way I look, and that's one of the reasons I started this crusade in the first place. I understood the humour and the direction they had intended, but I read and re-read that e-mail countless times, becoming more depressed and hurt with each passing scan. My initial reaction was to respond with two very choice monosyllabic words, but I thought better of that option and sent a proper response, knowing that they likely didn't intend it to be as hurtful as it was. I soon realized I had a very strong craving for ice cream, cookies, and/or a Slurpee. What should have been incentive (albeit negative) to get active, had regressed to a desire for "comfort food". The same snacks that had put me in this position were now supposed to help pull me out of it. Again with the pretzel logic. I had to suppress the urge to "eat myself happy" and stay the course, but considering the bounty of food that was going to be made available, it would be no easy task.

My parents were away for the weekend, so there would only be one major meal to contend with, the in-laws, and I arrived emotionally tattered and ready to stuff myself. It's extraordinarily difficult to deny your body what your brain desires. I wanted seconds of everything on the table, and there was more than enough to accommodate. I sat back helplessly and watched the plate of stuffed baked potatoes slowly cool and shrivel, relegated to the much less glamourous world of leftovers. So too, the tender roast pork, doomed to the same fate, awaiting me to pluck another helping from it's bounty but instead slowly drying up, destined for tomorrow's sandwiches. An evening of firsts, that contained no seconds. I couldn't remember a time prior where I wouldn't be trudging to the couch with a loosened belt, but I suppose this is how it now needed to be. I wasn't joining in the ritual of pleasant regret this year, all the other guests leaned back in their chairs with a mighty exhale, the pop of their pants' button signaling their complete satisfaction. I would have to fight for every inch, claw for every fraction of a pound, and I'm the only one responsible for the outcome.

The remainder of the weekend consisted of me running program after program, salvaging what I could from the malfunctioning drive. Thankfully, it wasn't a terminal mechanical problem, so I managed to recover the data, but had to shell out for a new drive. I spent a fair amount of time on the floor, navigating small connectors with large fumbling fingers, repeatedly swapping hardware in hopes of archiving every last bit of information. After a few late evenings, everything had returned to normal. Back to a world of regulated portions and mealtimes, consistent bursts of activity, and a positive attitude reassuring myself why I must continue to push on.

Day 25 - Another Kick In The Pants & Insane Adverts

As my wife and I were once again taking in some of the cool, fall weather with a bike ride through the park, we stumbled upon a very interesting find. The Terry Fox Fitness Trail, which consists of numerous fitness tests scattered throughout a running trail in the park. It's a good mix of easy tasks with a few that are quite taxing, and some near impossible. It was a great way to be active and to gain a little more confidence and inspiration in what I was trying to accomplish. I found myself thinking about Terry's journey and it gave me even more incentive to continue pushing myself to be a stronger person, physically and mentally. (See the sidebar for a link to the history of Terry Fox and his foundation.)

We continued our ride through the park and I spotted a familiar face in the distance, as we approached, my suspicions were confirmed. He had sent me his own weight-loss story via e-mail after reading my blog, and had invited me out to run with him a while back. I hadn't yet taken him up on that offer, but we'd remained in occasional contact via e-mail, keeping each other posted on our struggles and successes. To have the opportunity to meet him in person was an honour indeed. He's lost around 150 pounds to date, and is very committed and focused on his goals. His devotion is highly contagious, and before I knew it, we were headed out for a quick trot. After a few laps, and some casual chit-chat and story swapping, we bid he and his group farewell, feeling even more energized and optimistic.

We arrived home anxious to reap the rewards of our session of activity...rest and relaxation. Kicking up our feet after such a physically active evening was so much more rewarding than simply flopping on the couch after work and remaining there for the entire night. Not being much of a TV watcher, I miss out on some of the nuttiest commercials out there, food commercials especially. There's one in particular that completely had me in awe. A fellow walks into a pizza place and asks for a "BIG pizza". What he is offered is almost incomprehensible. Apparently the evolution of the pizza has been swift, cruel and unusual. Thick, pan baked, triple topping, stuffed crust pies have nothing on this wonder of pizza engineering. To be completely blunt, it was two pizzas stacked on top of each other, weighing "nearly 4 POUNDS!" as the over-zealous employee stated in no uncertain terms. They didn't just stuff the crust, they stuffed the ENTIRE PIZZA! Essentially, I regard it's hierarchy to be as follows: Crust, sauce, cheese, toppings, crust, sauce, cheese, toppings. The eager employee with the Cheshire Cat grin hands the double-wall reinforced pizza box to the smiling (and notably not overweight) customer, only to have him fall through the floor. Hilarious. Seriously, look at me laughing. :| Why, in a society where people are being removed from their houses via forklift do we need to "up the ante" on pizza? That's just one of many instances of companies enticing people of all sizes to dine on these disasters they attempt to pass off as "food". This brings me to one of my great weaknesses, the Slurpee. The cravings have waned as the time has passed, and it's been almost one month since my last one. In the simplest terms, I haven't had one because I don't really want one. I no longer feel compelled to, and though the desire will likely never leave me, the habitual nature of "just getting one because..." seems to have subsided. That's not to say I've gone completely without treating myself to minor sweets, but nothing quite as damaging as that almighty Slurpee, and I'm OK with that.

Continuous support and motivation is a major key to this process, and our adventure through the park had provided me with a positive reminder as to what I'm striving to accomplish. As our Thanksgiving weekend approaches, I'll once again be faced with the need to control my eating, and I'm feeling much better prepared to handle the adversity. Nearing the first "10 pounds lost" mark, there's no amount of temptation that's going to prevent me from seeing that scale roll into the 240's. Not this time.

Day 24 - Spreading Myself Thin

I think this is the first day where nothing really happened, well, nothing truly noteworthy or entertaining. I'm going to update twice a week from here on out, Monday and Friday. A daily blog seems a bit ambitious, considering the vast span over which I'll be journaling my adventure, and the small amount of time I have available to write it.

So to those that have been checking in and reading my thoughts, I thank you, but you'll have to wait another day to take in my next adventure. Take some time to review an entry you may have missed, and I'll be back with some more entertaining stories and insight very soon.

Day 23 - Too Much Of A Good Thing Is Morbidly Hilarious

Not paying attention to my daily weigh-ins is tough when the number stays stagnant or increases. But, that one critical moment per week is when it really matters, so I'm not thinking about my weight at this point. Though, I may have some insight into those fluctuations...

My naturopath had given me a tip a while back, to take a few spoonfuls of ground flax around mealtime to help me feel satiated. As I've mentioned before, I have a hard time getting to the point of feeling "full", so any help in that regard was welcome. Sure enough, the ground flax delayed my "need to feed" for longer than usual. Incorporating it into my daily routine was simple as it's a very inexpensive product ($0.12/100g), and it's fairly pleasant to eat, apart from the dryness. Also a good source of fibre and Omega fats, I would rarely go without a daily dosage. As I began to grow accustomed to it's fibrous abilities, I slowly increased the amounts I'd be taking in during the day. My daily portion had topped out at around 1 cup (168g) per day. For Day 23, I had unintentionally filled up my container a little more than usual, around the 250g mark. "No big deal, it's only flaxseed.", I thought. Near the end of the day, feeling quite full of flax, I decided to check out the nutritional information on NutritionData.com. "Flaxseed........ok, there it is........one serving, ground flaxseed........37 calories, 3g of fat.........hmm, not too bad at all.", my eyes moved upward to gaze upon a little tiny number at the top of the chart, ".....Serving Size 7g...........wait.....WHA?!?!?!?!?".

That's right, folks, and I'll do the math for you. My average flax intake for the day would yield 888 calories and 72g of fat. And though it's the "good" kind of fat, that's still about 120% of my daily fat intake. For the flax ALONE. Also considering I'd like to keep my daily calorie intake around the 1500 mark, that's almost 60% of my daily calories right there. I'm normally pretty diligent about researching this sort of thing, but it must have slipped right by me all those years ago. Oh, and for those keeping score at home, my most recent serving worked out to 1325 calories and 107g of fat. All I could do was laugh. A lot.

The evening consisted of some cooking, a little computer project, and catching the tail end of The Biggest Loser. I'm not much for reality TV, or TV in general, but that show obviously hits home for me. If you look past the countless instances of forced suspense and well placed advertisements, there's real human emotion to be found under it's glossy corporate exterior. I realize it's horribly cliché, but they really inspired me to work even harder at bettering myself. I hopped on and extended my usual treadmill variations with an additional 5min run, returning to the mat yet again for my regular session, (45min/2.75mi, 400/30/30). All in all, a productive day, though the entertainment unfortunately came at my expense once again. Blasted flaxseed...

Day 22 - Impatience, Frustration, and Taking My Own Advice

Instant breakfast, heat-and-eat lunches, and 90 second workouts have sculpted us into creatures that want and need everything, immediately. Longer work days, coupled with shorter lunches, breaks and vacations have caused us to compress the tasks we deem "non-essential" into shorter spans of time, or simply to "multitask". On my morning commute, if was to look to my left and then my right at any stop light, I would be guaranteed to see someone either talking on their phone, taking notes, eating some sort of fast food, drinking a coffee, or perhaps any combination of these. Never mind the fact that once the light turns green, they're also operating a motor vehicle. I'm not going to turn this into some diatribe about the safety issue this presents, I just wonder how to curb the madness.

On the morning of Day 22, our impatient culture had bled back into my own way of thought. I stepped on the scale only to see a slight improvement over last week. "At this stage, I should be in full swing", I thought to myself. "My pants aren't feeling any looser, my shirts are still far too snug, and I'm almost a month into this.", loosely translated, "I want results, and I want them NOW.". My previous weight-loss effort was very much an instant gratification process, losing the bulk of the weight in the first 6-8 weeks. However, this was due to making drastic physical changes that I wasn't mentally prepared for. It obviously didn't work, and my current thoughts were focused on what I was already deeming another failure. "What do I need to change? How can I improve my results? Why is this not working? When will I feel like I'm really progressing?" I turned to my own words for advice, and perused my previous entries.

Patience is a virtue, and can be easily cast aside when looking to the future. I again, was getting too far ahead of myself here. My natural reaction was to panic, looking to place blame before the outcome was even determined. I looked to that popsicle I had on Day 14, or the meal where I may have eaten a little more than I should have on Day 9, but why? A deep analysis of all of these factors turned up the same answer every time. Patience and determination will be rewarded with results. If I keep doing all the right things, change will happen. I'm not looking for the quick fix here, I want to be healthy and to stay that way. It is a long process, and one that I've still only just begun.

Though I was still feeling slightly disappointed with my progress thus far, I knew that if I sat back and felt sorry for myself I'd risk derailment. Refocused, I hit the treadmill for an uphill climb followed by a flatland run for a total of 40mins, taking me 2.5 miles. After the hockey experience from Day 19, I knew that I had to work towards getting myself in better condition for each upcoming game. I concluded the evening with my mat workout and felt much better about my accomplishments thus far. Though the scale wasn't giving me much to cheer about, I was feeling physically stronger, and improving by the day. Though it remains a daily struggle to push myself, and the results sometimes don't show themselves as quickly as I'd like them to, some things in life are just worth the wait.

Day 19, 20 & 21 - Puck Drop, Peer-Pressure, and Getting Tidy

Day 19 arrived with the excitement of Christmas morning. I loaded the equipment bag into the car and as I headed to work, was already looking forward to the end of the day. The first hockey game of the season was going to put my body through the wringer, and I was anxious to get it underway. It was a much more relaxed atmosphere than the organized games I'd played for the past years, playing to win, but also playing for fun. No goons, no bad attitudes, just a few guys enjoying the game. I came out of the gate for my first shift and played with the same intensity that I had from the last game many months ago. Unfortunately, that sort of expulsion of energy is best served when you've got a moment or two to rest after your 1min shift is up. With a lot less players than I was previously accustomed to, the shifts were longer, and the rests were shorter. MUCH shorter. The pace is still good, but my conditioning will have to improve immensely if I want to keep up with these guys. I left the rink exhausted but very happy. I knew I'd be sore for the weekend, but I didn't care. This was yet another reason to keep up the training at home, and to stay focused on fitness.

To my surprise, I was able to walk on the morning of Day 20. The ferocity with which I'd strained my muscles the day before had shown no ill effects, as of yet. Perhaps the mild workouts I had been putting myself through were providing some service after all. We had a housewarming to attend for the evening, but my wife was sadly forced to stay home with a migraine. Flying solo, I arrived early, unsure of what the night would bring, knowing that there would be many temptations to accompany the fun to be had. After the grand tour, I adjourned to the upstairs living room / dining room / kitchen area, to bear witness to the beautiful spread of food that awaited me. All of my weaknesses were fully represented. Spinach dip in a bread bowl, sliced cheeses accompanied by spicy meats, chips and dips, cake, cupcakes, and a wide assortment of beverages, all for public consumption. Thankfully there was balcony where I headed out to grab a breath and collect my thoughts to prepare for the evening to follow. All of my friends will eat, drink and be merry, and I will be restricted to being merry without the assistance of food or drink. I went to the kitchen, removing a disposable cup from the towering display that would no doubt dwindle late into the night, after quenching the thirst of those devouring all things sweet and salty. I, however, was looking for water. Pushing aside the bags of chips, bottles of pop, and flasks of liquor, I located the water jug. Filling my plastic carafe, I immediately knocked back it's contents and refilled before taking a seat. The cup was coloured, but clear, providing the illusion that I could be quaffing a mixed drink. But with the frequency that I was refilling, combined with the sureness of my footing and unfettered speaking ability, it was evident that wasn't consuming my customary gin beverages. As the bulk of the guests had arrived and settled in, I was offered a proper drink, to which I politely refused. Alarm bells were set off immediately, as I don't believe this individual had ever heard me turn down a drink. The topic of conversation turned to my fitness endeavours, and I soon found myself recounting many of my stories and revelations from over the past weeks. Normally a peer-pressure oriented group, they let me be. It didn't exempt me from some light-hearted teasing and needling through the night, but by the time the rowdy crowd had arrived, I was battling only my inner demons to resist that lone piece of cheese, those crumbs in the chip bowl, and that last morsel of bread saturated with the dip of it's departed brethren. Many laughs were had, old stories re-told, and new stories created, all with a lonely cup of water at my side. Not a close call to be had, nor a moment of weakness to speak of. I sat amongst a sea of deliciousness, and through my inner strength I emerged victorious. Though my muscles were starting to get sore...

The morning of Day 21 came a little earlier than I'd hoped, but that was all right, as I was heading out to help out a friend at a trade show. Funny thing was, he's the co-owner of the house we were warming the night prior. Looking a little worse for wear, I gladly relieved him of his post to allow him get some coffee and a little breather. We kicked back for most of the show, tending to the occasional customer, being entertained by some, and uninspired by others. It was a pleasant way to spend a Sunday morning and afternoon. I headed home, after the crowds had thinned out, to a relaxing afternoon and evening of tidying and cleaning. My wife headed out to a movie with a friend, which left me to continue my cleaning and take in a little video game action. By now, my muscles were aching a little, but if this was to be the worst of it, then I'd say I wasn't doing too badly. My sides would pang when I coughed or sneezed, but my legs were in tip top shape. It was a good feeling to know that the efforts I'd been putting forth were really giving me some merit. My wife arrived home in time for some TV and then off to bed. The scale really jumped around this weekend, I hope that it is kind to me to kick off Week 4, I think I've earned it.