Nothing more than some rather simple diet changes. I didn’t expect it. Here are some random thoughts so far.

Lots more vegetables and beans so I fart more, longer and louder. Excretia emits a slightly different odor, shifted towards vegetables. The first week or so was hardest as I learned to prepare stuff different from our normal fare. Egg whites are ugly as sin in the pan at first (kind of like lancing a boil) but soon become more palatable (which lancing a boil never does). Baby carrots actually DO make a nice snack, and have a very satisfying crunch. I run the dishwasher more often, which is probably because I spend about 50% more time in the kitchen either preparing of cleaning up from meals. You really DO eat less, but more often in order to avoid feeling hungry. The weirdest ‘trick’? The juice of a lemon, drank just before dinner. They told me it’d have the effect of lowering the glycemic index of foods eaten afterward. I dunno, but it seems to do me good.

The first few days I felt hungry, but no more. I attribute that to just getting used to it. I feel pretty good. Plenty of energy at the gym, sleep good, all that. So far, so good.

More as we progress.

Frustrating, hard work, it was. When you’re only lifting maybe ten percent of what you remember and, still, it kills you… well, it takes some perseverance to keep going. Along the way we met with some personal trainers. We use one of those cheap gyms new-style back-to-basics facilities where the trainers are on contract, actively promoting themselves to potential clients. When you come away from one of those meetings and they say something to the effect of “just keep doing what you’re doing, I really can’t help you too much” it sort of validates you.

Fast-forward to today. I’m in much better shape today than when we (re)started. A lot stronger, too. I’ve put on a few pounds in the right places, lost a few in others. But it’s definitely not the same as when I was younger.

So the next thing is diet modification. All this time I’ve just eaten whatever I feel like whenever I feel like it. No fast food – I gave that up years ago following a bad experience with a chicken sandwich – but plenty of processed stuff. Whatever presents itself. I should add that I’m not – and neither is Pam – one of those people motivated by food, whose lives revolve around their meals. I mean, sometimes when we’re busy we actually forget to eat. It gets to the end of the day, maybe two in the morning, and we look at each other, “we should eat something.” We just hadn’t gotten around to it all day long. Which might lead us to a couple of frozen pizzas washed down with beers.

Not the best diet in the world, like I said.

So now we’re taking a stab at doing better. We’ll see if it lets us take this thing to the next level. Can’t hurt. Firstly, cutting the carbs and fat and adding a conscious effort toward more vegetables.

It’s a doubly tough endeavor because the kid won’t eat this stuff. His preferred fare? Bacon. Pastrami. Pizza. Burgers. Chips. Candy. That is, when he eats at all. Otherwise it’s soda by the gallon. Skinny as a rail he is. “My meat needs to kill me,” he says. Ah, youth.

My breakfast today was egg whites and mixed vegetables. Plus a few baby carrots and a spit of orange juice. Oh, and coffee. I drink at least a pot a day of the brew, black, and I don’t care you’re not getting me away from that. Spent the whole morning farting up a storm. (Be glad you’re not here.)

It’s been said that anything you can do for a month can become a habit and I can tell you from experience that it’s true. You can modify anything you care to – if you’ve got the will to do it. I’ll let you know how we progress.

Ad spotted at Wawa Store #912. Click for full-size.

“Unmatched Pleasure”

That’s what the sign promised.

Y’know, friends, as far as I’m concerned there’s simply NO pleasure in the whole wide world that matches the pleasure of gum disease. Unless, of course, you can find some way to cram tooth loss into the mix.

Well, your search is over! Here’s the product that’s done it.

I bought all that I could fit in my truck. NOT.

I think I’m going to package a hammer with a nail. The marketing sheet will promise that if you use the product properly – that is, by pushing the nail through your hand with the aid of the hammer – it’ll deliver the unmatched pleasure of a hole in your hand.

http://www.vhemt.org/

“May we live long and die out”

I just read a fascinating article in The New Yorker that really opened my eyes. On the one hand, I’ve been known to quaff a Red Bull or two to get me through a particularly trying meeting (or maybe to get a few more hours out of a good Friday night) but on the other I’ve been known to speak out against our over-medicated society.

Go check this out, I practically guarantee you’ll learn something.

Brain Gain – The underground world of “neuroenhancing” drugs
by Margaret Talbot
The New Yorker – April 27, 2009
http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2009/04/27/090427fa_fact_talbot?currentPage=all

http://www.pcworld.com/article/160752/bathrooms_become_smarter_with_touch_screens.html

This story goes pretty far back, way back to when I traded working with my body for working with my brain. Even though I was young, the responsiveness and strength of my body, which I’d come to take for granted, had begun to fade. I tried to fight it. I tried exercise, even bought a weight set, but I didn’t have the self-discipline to make it work. Then, a new gym was opening right up the street and they sent around some promotional material. I went in to check it out. I remember being floored by the price tag, but ended up giving in to their hard-sell tactics. One aspect seemed to make sense: the significant cost would push me to work at it, rather than waste it. And it worked.

After about six months my wife joined me – another chunk of change every month – but work at it we did. We gained strength, our bodies changed, we stopped getting colds and stuff, and a whole host of other benefits. Three or four days a week, maybe three or more hours per session, had become our routine. Yeah, there was pain then, too, but we grew accustomed to it, even learned to enjoy it. We did this for years, moving to a better gym when the first one folded.

When Pam was pregnant with Damian she continued to lift – with her doctor’s blessing. “Your body will tell you when to stop,” he said. She continued with the machines and free weights until about two weeks before giving birth. Pretty incredible. (It’s worth noting that she was home from the hospital in less than 24 hours, too – a tribute to the amazing shape she was in.)

With a newborn in the house life was very, very different. Time – for *anything* – was immediately in seriously short supply. Did I mention the sleep deprivation? We tried to keep fitting the workouts in, but it just wasn’t happening. After some months of membership dues essentially thrown away we cut it loose.

In the years that followed I’ve made quite the number of starts at getting strong again. Despite the weights, leg machines and a top ‘o the line StairMaster climber, it simply hasn’t become habit.

So now, more than a decade and a half later, it’s time for a fresh start. I’m please to report getting past the extremely frustrating feeling of being unable to do even ten percent of what was once easy and routine. The every-other-day ritual is becoming normal, and feels damned good. Stuff hurts.

But it’s a good kind of hurt.