Determined To Succeed

Hey, everybody. How’s it going on this Friday? Well, I hope. I wanted to share something with you guys that was inspired by a random visit to my local ACME grocery store on Ash Wednesday. I really do believe our loved ones are with us wherever we go and no matter whether your parents are with us or not that it helps trigger for you a wonderful, warm memory that takes you into the weekend and brings the sun out in your lives.

According to Wikipedia®, the song “If I Knew You Were Comin’ I’d've Baked a Cake” was a popular song written by Al Hoffman, Bob Merrill and Clem Watts published in 1950. As with many songs before and after, it was recorded many times in many countries by many artists over the years (even including a 1969 version sung by Ernie to Cookie Monster on the very first season of a little show you might have heard of called Sesame Street). The big hit version of the song was recorded by Eileen Barton in January 1950. The recording was released by National Records and when the song became too big a hit for National to handle, it arranged with Mercury Records to help with distribution. The record first reached the Billboard Magazine charts on March 3, 1950 and lasted 15 weeks on the chart, peaking at #1.

Why do I bring all this up? Why am I mentioning a song that hardly anyone remembers anymore and is sixty-one years old this year? Simple. On Ash Wednesday 2011, I just happened to be at my local grocery store and a woman who easily is in her mid-to-late sixties (at least) was bantering back-and-forth with her co-worker and she sang that song. As she sang the main part of the song she smiled widely and bopped side to side having fun the entire time. I could tell she was remembering how much fun she must have had as a child listening to that song on her record player and singing it with her friends, you know, like the kids do nowadays with their fancy-schmancie iPods.

“If I Knew You Were Comin’ I’d’ve Baked a Cake…”

Instantly, I felt a memory rush back to me that I had long forgotten. It was from my childhood. It was of my sweet mama, JoAnn, singing that song to me in our apartment in Hyde Park. I don’t remember what would have prompted her to sing the song (maybe it was one of our birthdays or somehow we got on the subject of cake) but I now remember vividly her singing the song to me. And it wasn’t the only time she sang it. We were at our local grocery store one day and she burst into song there, too.

“If I Knew You Were Comin’ I’d’ve Baked a Cake…”

I am ashamed to say I also remember how I felt at the time as she sang that song to me. I thought it was silly and thought my mom was a bit loony for doing it. I mean really, who comes up with lyrics like “If I Knew You Were Comin’ I’d’ve Baked a Cake” anyway? Moreover, when we were in public I felt embarrassed that my mom was singing out loud this silly, weird song and all I wanted to do was walk away until my mom stopped this wild, wacky behavior. However, in retrospect, she must have felt as the grocery clerk did on Ash Wednesday. My mom must have remembered how it felt to connect to a song when she was a child (she would have been eleven-years-old at that time) and how much fun she must have had listening to it on her fancy-schmancie contraptions of the time, most likely her radio. As the memories came back I pictured her as she sang to me, smiling widely, bopping back and forth, trying to get me to smile.

I came home and told my girlfriend, Laura, about what had happened and I almost cried. I told her about the woman in the store and how her singing that silly song brought up such a powerful memory of my mother and how I just miss the sound of my mom‘s voice. Sure, I miss everything else about my mom, too – her smile, her laugh, going to the movies or to the store – but most of all, I miss her sweet and tender voice because when that voice wasn‘t trying to reassure me that everything was going to be O.K. with the world it was trying to make me smile and laugh with silly, goofy and weird old songs sung out loud at home and at the store.

Well, Ma, the smiles were there, then and now.

Ever since that day in my local store I have thought about that song, singing the refrain in my own head. And thanks to computers and websites like YouTube® I can not only hear it but see Eileen Barton sing that song (well, at least see a photo of her as a recording plays over my speakers). Hell, I can even see Ernie sing the song to Cookie Monster and remember what it was like to be a child having fun and singing silly songs because that was our job at the time, to laugh, have fun and play. Moms know that. It’s part of what makes them moms. If it’s our jobs to have fun then it’s their jobs to keep that party going because, as all of us know, childhood ends too way too soon and memories like that give way to the pressures and thoughts of the real world, kind of like Neo being awakened by Morpheus in “The Matrix.” But for a short but magical time we are children and our moms are gods, leading the party of smiles and fun because no matter how much money you have (or how much money we didn’t have) mom have that special something that always make us smile and laugh. At least mine did.

So thank you, anonymous grocery store clerk. The next time I see you I swear I’m going to tell you all about how you brought up that memory of my sweet mama and her singing that song to a little boy in Chicago and making him feel loved beyond reason. And thank you, Mama, for being brave enough to sing to your little boy even if it did embarrass me in public. You always seemed (and still seem) to know when I need (ed) a smile (I know it was your spirit who guided me to hear that clerk sing it that so I could hear it and remember and connect with you). And to all you kids (and adults) out there who think it is or was stupid that your parents sang silly little songs to you to get you to smile, wise up. That is how parents become our Higher Powers, it is how they lead us, connect with us and protect us. Most of all, it is part of how they love us, and believe me when I tell you on this grey and gloomy overcast day in southern New Jersey…when the singing stops and you have to fight to remember the party of smiles you miss them more than words can ever express.

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Day one-hundred-fifty-six.

Happy new week, my friends, and welcome to the second full week of 2011. As all of you know I live in southern New Jersey and, if you’ve kept up with the weather maps and forcasts recently, you know we here are expecting another 4″ – 8″ of snow. I know I am fond of saying this alot and throwing my Chicago-ness around, but you should see and feel the anxiety of others who live here, their “the sky is falling” mentality taking over over what will amount to less than a foot of snow.

When I was a kid, they only closed the Chicago Public Schools once (that I can remember). It was for the Blizzard of 1979 during which 16.5 inches of snow fell on January 13, 1979 alone, setting a new record for snow in one calendar day. By the end of January 14, 18.8 inches of snow had fallen. That blizzard was so powerful that it resulted in the election of Jane Byrne, the first and only woman so far to be elected mayor of Chicago. In a special election, she defeated Michael Bilandic, who took over after the death of Mayor Richard J.Daley, because of the city’s badly-planned-and-executed response to the snow.

Yes, Chicago received more than 10-inches of snow more than the most this area is expected to receive over the next 24 hours. Sigh. When I was in the store yesterday buying healthy stuff to eat like salad fixins, healthy lunchmeat and veggies I surveyed the crowds all gearing up for the threat of more snow. I even overheard that a local dentist’s office was calling patients to tell them they had already decided to close on Wednesday (our snow is expected to start tonight) in anticipation. Sigh again.

It’s all “milk and eggs” in this part of the country but I guess that’s just me. But what the hell does this have to do with my weight or weight loss? For starters, I am back up a pound-and-a-half which pisses me off to no end. Next, no matter what the snow fall is I am getting my rotundness to the gym to workout today, tomorrow and every day after no matter the amount of snow.  But I have to silently hide my origins and mask my shame as I ask the attendants at the gym if they will even be open tomorrow due to the (sigh) expected snowfall.

It’s O.K., though. Weighing in at 248.9 today I am more than happy to don my snow shoes (well, sneakers – or gym shoes as we call ‘em back home) and barrel through whatever snow falls to be able to get on the elliptical to burn off this extra poundage. One of the 40/40 I listed was to absolutely get back to my goal weight and I’m gonna do it, despite my over-zealous eating habits over the weekends.

In other words, I don’t go running to the store to buy my milk, eggs and bread afraid of what might be coming, I just deal with what is happening and what actually comes as best I can. That’s all any of us can do in this world – and in this world of weight loss.

Oh, and thanks to a good friend of mine I have a correction I’d like to make to last week’s blog.

Last week, as I told you guys about seeing bald eagles in the wild, I mistakenly called a grouping of multiple bald eagles a “flock.” This, apprently, is not the case. I actually saw a convocation of eagles. If they had been hawks I would have seen a cast of hawks. Or if those hawks were spiraling in flight they would have been a boil (funny thing to call a grouping – makes me think of soup, especially on cold winter days).  Also, owls are a parliament, crocodiles are a bask  and did you know that if you’ve got a group of frogs, it’s an ARMY!!

Awesome! See, every now and then you can learn something by reading my weight loss blog, even if it doesn’t necessarily pertain to weight loss.

Or maybe it’s just my way to mentally prepare going to the gym today?

Either way, have a great day, my peeps. Talk to you soon (hopefully lighter than I am today).

PS: A big birthday shout out goes out to my mom, JoAnn, who on January 9th, would have turned 72. Happy birthday, Mama. I love and miss you very much.

It’s always interesting to see something through someone else’s eyes. Being a tour guide for your hometown to someone who’s never been, or watching a movie you’ve seen dozens of times but someone else hasn’t. Even sharing the sight of a rainbow with someone as if it were the first one. Times like that are awesome, and I had one of those times yesterday when I went to go speak to a group in southern New Jersey about my weight loss.

I was originally invited by the leader of the group, a nutritionist, who thought it would be cool to have a guest speaker (moi) come in and discuss his own personal weight loss journey. As people poured into the room I introduced myself to everyone and I think they could sense right away this wasn’t going to be the usual stick-in-the-mud speaker (you know – yawn, take a note, yawn again, zzzzzzzzzz, wake up, wish for coffee, the class to end or a fork in your eye). I was going to be fun, personable, full of movie quotes and open to discuss anything about weight loss.

One of the attendees of this class, Steve (not his real name as I do not want to completely embarrass him), was one of the first to arrive. He didn’t want to weigh-in before class (a standard practice before each one) because he knew he had fallen off the wagon but he showed up trying so very hard to get back the motivation he seemed to lose and lose completely, his funny exterior hiding his own disappointment and sadness.

Sound like a blogger you know?

I promised Steve that the very last part of what I had to say was just for him and to keep his ears peeled. Anywho, the class went on for a little over and hour and I laid out my life’s story, from obese child to obese adult, the epiphany I had which started my weight loss journey and how I grapple with issues even today in the maintenance of my new weight. I think it went well and I kept teasing throughout the hour my message for Steve – like the coming attraction previews for a highly-anticipated flick.

During the class, though, I kept seeing weight loss through his eyes and I put myself into Steve’s shoes. More to the point, I put myself back into my old ones. You know the ones I mean. The ones that were a half-size to a size bigger because I lost weight in my feet. The ones that went with the size 58 pants I had or the size 60 suit jackets I used to wear. Yeah, those shoes. I completely went back in my mind and saw this weight loss journey through Steve’s eyes and remembered what it was like to be at a low point and want to give up.

When I finally got to the big moment I had teased I saw that I had Steve’s full attention. “Good,” I thought to myself. “Maybe he can see this though my eyes now.” I talked about failure, and how it is simply just a part of the process of weight loss. I talked about how we need failure to fully appreciate what success is and how it feels when we finally get there. I talked about how it is only permanent if you let it be permanent. It was then I think I either got through to Steve or hit such a nerve it was disturbing and too real. In that moment he knew as well as I did we had connected and we both understood what it was like for the other, and he could see I understood how it felt to try and fail to lose weight. At least I hope so. God, I hope so.

At the end most of the class bolted out of there. Some, hopefully most, saw a bit of the same information taught to them by their nutritionist (which was purely accidental as he and I never spoke about what he was teaching or what I’d be saying) and some just left eager to get home. But Steve was one of the ones who stuck around to chat after. Most guys aren’t too open with their feelings, but as we were both sharing a laugh over a quote from “WALL STREET” I could see on Steve’s face a little glimmer of hope for the journey he is undertaking, and I sincerely hope he is reading this blog entry today. Because, just like yesterday’s talk about failure, this one is for him and other like him who get discouraged and want to throw in the towel.

Please don’t. It is hard. Believe me, I know it is. However, it is a path you’ve chosen to walk that will (WILL) get you to a better you. And while it will take work (there are no quick fixes) and will take time (weight didn’t come overnight and it won’t leave overnight) it will get you to that better, healthier and lighter place you want to be. The lyrics to the Peter Gabriel song “Don’t Give Up” sum it up pretty well…

Don’t give up
‘cos you have friends
Don’t give up
You’re not beaten yet

Don’t give up

It’s going to be alright
When times get rough
You can fall back on us
Don’t give up
Please don’t give up

Don’t give up
’cause you have friends
Don’t give up
You’re not the only one
Don’t give up
No reason to be ashamed
Don’t give up
You still have us
Don’t give up now
We’re proud of who you are
Don’t give up
You know it’s never been easy
Don’t give up
You’re not beaten yet

Don’t give up
Please don’t give up

Remember, my friends that if and when we feel down and alone we really aren’t. There are others who understand and are here to help. Also remember I know what this feels like, too. I get down and want to eat all the time, especially when I’m missing my mom. But we can’t give up. We shouldn’t give up and I really want you to take you out of you and see the world through someone else’s eyes…someone who has gotten to be where you want to be and who fights every day to stay there. Why? Because it is hard work, determination, drive, sweat and tears to get there and stay there. But you will get there. You will as long as you have those things. And never give up. Because everyone in that room, Steve, was there for the exact same thing and they are all your support system, as I am, to help you through.

Don’t give up. That’s the universe’s promise to us and that is why, how and when rainbows exist. They show us the way and bring color back to our lives on dark and stormy days.

Last night I couldn’t get to sleep.

You know how you get when things weigh on your mind to the point where all that energy is what’s fueling you? Sort of like an old steam-powered train whose engineer is shoveling coals into the fire. Well, that’s what happened to me last night. I had been waiting for a piece of news all day…and waiting…and waiting…and waiting. And finally, when it was apparent it would never come my mind took over, threw more coals on the fire and kept us (my mind and me) up pretty late.

I know this is going to sound bad but much of why I was up had to do with Coke, also. Not to disparage the greatest soft drink (pop) in the whole world but not having it for the past few days – and subsequently having it all out of my system – meant that when I did have it yesterday all that caffeine and sugar got into my system adding more coals to my engine, heating it up and keeping the train moving.

I so wish I could figure out why I am an emotional eater/drinker. And before you start to worry not drinking in terms of booze. Drinking in terms of Coca-Cola. I wish I could figure out what triggers in the minds of big people like me makes food a viable option when it comes to those pesky demons that come for you – especially late, late into the night.

Hurmph.

If I could figure that out I’d be a rich, rich man. I’d also be back at my goal weight and then some by now. I’d not still be fighting the battle of the final ten over a year after my sweet mom died. I’d find it much easier to resist the liquid joy of an ice-cold Coke and not give in to it’s delicious yet empty calories. Oh, and if I could figure that one out I’d also figure out how to extract the unstoppable energy of a child (or find a way to activate that part of an adult brain) so I could add that to the mix. Then I’d be super-duper rich. Like Bill Gates or Warren Buffet rich. No more emotional eating combined with limitless energy? Shit. That would be awesome.

But as my man, Jules, in “Pulp Fiction” says “that shit ain’t the truth,” and there is no such thing as abundant adult energy and there is a such thing as emotional eating. And while I can’t just yet share with you guys the exact reason for this sort of morose weekend blog post please know I take this feeling for what it is – a set of rain clouds that have gathered up in my mind causing it to rain, just like it is today here in southern New Jersey. But like all rain, it will pass and the day will be sunny again (and hopefully not as freaking hot as it has been this past week – when 90 degrees is “cool,” look out).

As for my workout yesterday I did great. I did almost all of what my sensei taught me (although somehow the stretches seem to work better when doing them in class) and I worked up quite a sweat yesterday. And I plan to do the same today in the rescheduled class. Although working out with others is a new aspect of things so I hope I don’t embarrass myself too much in front of others.

Well, that’s all for now. Sorry it couldn’t be a bit more cheery but all will be revealed on Monday. Promise. Until then I will make sure I work out and NOT eat my weight in Chinese food, Milky Way bars and Cokes. After all, the good thing about staying up until all hours of the night thinking about stuff is that all the food places are closed.

See, in every cloud – even rainy ones – there is a silver lining.

Whenever I feel rundown, tired, overly anxious, nervous, distressed, worried or upset I know it’s time for me to just stop and go to sleep. That’s when I can end my day, no matter what’s going on, put my head down and recharge my batteries at least enough to tackle whatever situation comes up in life. Yes, sleep is a beautiful thing and yesterday, particularly in the afternoon, was no exception.

On Thursday, as I was driving my Honda Pilot back to southern New Jersey from New York (and that stupid, stupid $115 parking ticket) when the “maintenance required” light came on in my car. Nervous, I immediately called Honda and asked if the light came on in response to me reaching 105,000 miles. The guy on the phone said “yes, probably,” at which point I asked how much a service would be. He quoted me a price of about $250 and I went ahead and scheduled the service for Friday (yesterday). Only when I get to the service bay I find out that it’s not going to be $250, but more like $1,500 as the 105,000 mile service is the most comprehensive. Talk about bait-and-switch “shock.” And the “awe” part comes in when (and I knew this was coming) they told be I was told I had to replace my brakes, both front and rear, too, to the tune of another $500. Yep, a $2,000 trip to the car doctor added onto the $115 ticket I received and I felt miserable, rundown, overly anxious, distressed, worried and upset.

My first reaction was anger. “Why the f$#k would a person on the phone quote me such a low amount if they all supposedly knew there are “different levels” of the most comprehensive (read expensive) service they can do?” My second reaction was depression. “I can’t really afford this right now. But I need my car to be dependable,” and they totally have you over a barrel because you’re afraid if you don’t get it done your car will all but fall apart on you and you won’t be safe.

My third and final reaction? “Where’s the junk food?”

Yes, I am an emotional eater and always have been. Yesterday knocked me for a loop, came out of left field and whatever other cliché you want to use for I had the wind taken out of my sales with such a hefty price tag. All that made me want to do is drown my sorrows – and being a food-a-holic that’s exactly what I did. Earlier in the day I succumbed to the temptation and had two doughnuts, but it was all downhill from there. In the afternoon I had a pint of strawberry ice-cream. Yes, a whole pint. And for dinner I had loaded potato salad, a couple of kielbasa and, yes, a tall, delicious ice-cold Coca-Cola.

Damn. I wish I hadn’t done all that. I knew it was bad but I soooooo needed comfort food. I am human after all and yesterday sucked. Not as bad as a fraction of what’s going on in the world but it sucked in my world. After I’d eaten I knew it was time for sleep, when the mind, body and spirit just start shutting down as if light switches are one-by-one turned off in an office building or arena. I needed sleep. I couldn’t fight anymore. I was done.

But today is a new day and I have gotten my sleep. Sleep enough to let Honda know how displeased I am with the punch in the gut I got over the price. Sleep enough to get my ass to the gym to work off the silly, stupid and indulgent food binge I went on yesterday (yes, I gained back a pound and two ounces). Most of all, I got sleep enough to know it will all be OK, and that I will not let a kick in the chins derail my weight loss goal or my eating habits over the weekend (which, by the way, I’m not nervous about this weekend). I know I have to watch what I eat this weekend. I know I have to exercise. I was doing well and I will keep doing well especially being this/close to the “battle of the final ten.”

That is what sleep does, after all. It gives us energy to start a new day with the glass half-full instead of half-empty. Sleep is, indeed, a beautiful thing.

I can honestly say I had an excellent adventure to The Big Apple yesterday. Well, sort of…

I started my day as I knew I would, with my fruit and medium coffee from Dunkin’ Donuts with extra cream and extra crunchy (extra sugar). As I hit the road and enjoyed my coffee (in which they actually got the right amount of crunchiness) I was psyching myself up for what I knew would be an adventure filled with many food temptations, starting with the rest stops along the way.

Since I live in southern New Jersey I pass five rest areas along the New Jersey Turnpike – the Alexander Hamilton, the Joyce Kilmer, the Thomas A. Edison, the Richard Stockton and the Molly Pitcher. I started my day by having coffee and fruit because each one of these rest stops has a temptation I’d pull over for in a heartbeat.  Which temptations do you ask? I have three words for you: Cinnabon, Burger King and Nathan’s Hot Dogs. Just  writing about it makes me drool at the thought of a delicious, oh-so-decadent warm cinnamon roll with extra frosting, a hot and juicy, freshly-made Whopper with cheese (which my former self did have for breakfast, along with hash browns and mega-large Coke for breakfast) or a couple of awesome hot dogs with everything (a good one-handed road food). But I resisted. It was difficult but I did.

So I got to New York and, true to form, morning traffic was nuts. But I expected that. By the time I got to the Better TV offices on Lexington I was full of coffee and full of gumption that I wasn’t going to eat badly (and yes, I know, I know – I’m full of something alright). I even found a parking spot on the street just a block-and-a-half from the place. Awesome (well, sort of…)

When I arrive at the offices I was shown to the “green room,” where (insert ominous music here, or your standard dum, dum, duuuuum) a tray of some extremely delicious-looking pastries, muffins and bagels lie in front of me, each one of the delicacies calling to me and my taste buds “eat me, eat me, Bill.” “Ha,” I said. Well, actually I said “bite me,” and I had, instead a snack of some of the fresh fruit they had on a tray next to the evil (but yummy-looking) baked goods.

After a small snack of some grapes, strawberries and a piece of pineapple I was ready for my close-up, Mr. & Mrs. DeMille. And the shoot went great. The people at Better TV, especially host Audra Lowe, were great. I even got to tape a second, slightly-longer segment for airing either on the web or in markets where they have more time. I was thrilled and they seemed to like me. They really liked me, and I was out in time to go rescue my car from its street parking spot before it turned into a pumpkin. Well, sort of…

First I had to run something of a mini-gauntlet. While this one didn’t have the little red-haired girl, the clown, the colonel or the king, it did have a few restaurants that had come alive for the lunch crowd and were not open when I arrived. I passed a great-looking deli, with its wonderful tray of free samples beckoning me to taste. I passed an awesome looking Cuban restaurant and its fried wonders (although I do love me a Cuban sandwich every now and then), the smells of the food calling me to come inside and have some lunch. I also passed a great-smelling Halal-type cart where fresh chicken was frying up with some type of saucy goo that, while I didn’t know what was in it sure smelled good.

But I made it through and got to my car. I knew I had only a couple of minutes left but I should be good, no ticket for an expired meter. But wait, what was this…

…A $115 ticket for my wheels being on the sidewalk?! You’ve gotta be s%$#@&*g me?! I looked down and, wouldn’t you know, because the sidewalk and curb were so low to the street and I had no idea I had actually parked on the curb, I was parked a few (A FEW) inches onto the curb. I mean I didn’t pull an action movie or “Blues Brothers” and park completely on the sidewalk. I honestly couldn’t feel in my car I had parked on the stupid, way-too-low curb. Grrrrrrr.

I was pissed. PISSED I tell you. I was so angry I felt like the Hulk, but instead of wanting to “smash” this Hulk wanted to now eat. I’ve always said I’m an emotional eater, and those emotions run to anger, as well. When I’m angry and my adrenaline is going I feel like eating everything. I felt like going back and having some good New York deli, followed by a fried Cuban hot pockety thing they were selling and a dessert of some of that chicken with goo from the cart. I knew I had to just get in my car and get away from those temptations. And that’s what I did. I got back on the road.

And even though I was sloooooooowly calming down I was still pretty angry, and I still had to run the final gauntlet – the five rest stops I could easily resist before but now…let’s say my resolve was waning. I have to say the most tempting of the bunch was to pull over and have a Cinnabon, since they are only located in rest stops, malls (not my mall) or airports. But I didn’t. Nor did I pull over for a Whopper (my favorite fast food burger) or a hot dog (I did OD on those when I was recently home, anyway). Nah, I only had one food item on my mind and even though I was steamed enough to beat out the sun I only wanted a grilled chicken sandwich from Chick-Fil-A and Diet Dr. Pepper.

So I survived my trip, sort of. I resisted the urges that tempt us all every single day but it was quite an expensive adventure. However, I know in my head in my heart those two things should be reversed. I did get a stupid, asinine $115 ticket from the City of New York (screw you, very much) but I did hold strong and did not overeat…

…and that is a victory any day of the year.

I am a people watcher. I love sitting in coffee shops, restaurants and stores, or being at huge major events, and just watching people. You see all kinds whern you do, too. If I’m lucky I also get to hear people. It’s such an insight into what makes America tick. And on lucky occasions, like yesterday, I got to be out and about and heard people’s thoughts on weight and exercise.

Co-incidentally, both instances happened after I got coffee. I was just sitting, enjoying the absolutely beautiful pre-summer morning we were having in southern New Jersey when I heard two guys talking – two “guy guys.” They were taking about having packed on some extra “poundage” as they put it around their middles. One asked the other, “so, what are we gonna do about it?” The other replied, “I guess we better start exercising, right?”I almost chimed in and said “hey, it works. Good luck,” but that breaks the rules of people watchng. Kind of like the Prime Directive on the old “Star Trek” – observe but do not interfere.

The other instance was later in the afternoon. I was again getting coffee and enjoying the day when I heard one guy talking to a younger couple. They had all just received their respective coffee drinks and I overheard the guy say to the couple, “you guys aren’t heavy. I’m heavy and have been heavier.” He went on to describe how he’d lost over 50-pounds, which the couple remarked was great. Then, the woman in the couple asked the inevitable question – “so how did you do it?” – with that look in her eye like she’s waiting for the magic pill answer everyone else expects. The guy looked at them both and said “exercise. Totally exercise. That was the key. You can have all the diets you want in the world but you have to exercise.”

I almost stood up and applauded, but again remembered the “Prme Directive.” But both cases underscore the great need for, and seemingly growing understanding of, exercise in any weight loss journey. I mean I would not be where I am today, which is ever-so-slightly better than yesterday – 237.4 – without hitting the gym and trying to workout IN ADDITION TO trying to eat better.

When I step back for a moment and remember back to when I was 400 pounds I thought exercise was impossible. I though working out was something thin people did, partly to taunt us fat people – like saying “see, you all cant do what I’m doing. HA!” But that’s not the truth. The fact is I started out just trying to lose the first ten pounds by doing the only exercise I could do – walking. That simple increase in activity was enough to get me started and it was awesome. And throughout this journey I’ve met countless others out there who have all said the same thing – that exercise combined with diet is the way. And exercise isn’t just for the thin. It’s for any and everyone, children and adults alike. So if you are heavy do not be afraid or intimidated into not exercising. There is a brave new world out there for you if you wish to boldly go and find it.

I finished my coffee and left the coffee shop smiling a little bit to myself.  Even though I had to obey the “Prime Directive” it was great knowing more and more people are catching on to the “there is no magic pill” thing and that exercise is a huge component to weight loss. As I got into my car I started to even quote the old opening of “Star Trek,” this time changing it around a bit…

“Space. The final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Exercise…”

I know, I know. I am such a geek…

Because I write a weight loss column (and am a freelance writer) for the Courier-Post newspaper in southern New Jersey I get to do a few very cool things. For example, I got to cover the Pearl Jam concerts closing down Philadelphia’s beloved Spectrum sports and concert venue. It was very cool being with these photographers from other papers who had their thousand-dollar cameras that each had thousand-dollar lenses taking pictures of the band while I am there with my simple point-and-shoot digital camera – the kind you take on vacation – taking photos this/close to Eddie Vedder. Amazing.

Another of the cool things I get to do is interview people who can offer insight into weight loss. I’ve interviewed personal trainers, doctors and other “big loser” weight loss success stories – all of whom I hope help my readers find the motivation to start or continue a weight loss journey.

Yesterday, I did something daring and bold. I decided I wanted to do an interview with two people very close to public pulse of weight and weight loss. Dr. Sanford Siegal (creator of the famed “Cookie Diet”), who has decided to dig into his own pocket to pay Donna Simpson of New Jersey the sum of $50,000 (!) if she agrees to stop trying to get to her 1,000-pound weight goal and start losing. And Donna Simpson, herself. I’ve written about her before. This woman has a desire to become the “fattest woman in the world,” and is well on her way to doing it. Currently weighing between 600-700 pounds she consumes 12,000 (that’s right – 12,000) calories a day to get to her goal weight. I want to interview her to hear for myself WHY she wants to slowly eat herself to death. WHY she wants to get to such a point she can’t function on her own anymore. WHY she wants to not be able to leave her own house, tend to her poor children who have to see her do this to herself thanks to an enabling husband, and most importantly WHY she wants this kind of attention on herself for GAINING the weight you, me and everyone on a weight loss journey struggle to lose every single day.

I may be off my rocker but when I think of “goal weight” I think of actually trying to LOSE weight and set healthy weight goals. Like losing 5, 10, 20, 50 pounds, maybe more. Not gain the equivalent to two-times the amount of weight I lost to finally get to my weight loss goal. That’s, quite simply, crazy talk and I want to hear from her mouth (I can’t quite bring myself to say horse’s mouth since she’s eating like one) her reasons for doing this.

I have to admit it’s hard trying to remove my personal feelings from the questions I am devising for this woman as I have to retain a level of distance between myself and the subject. But I can’t help but be passionate about not only her seemingly lame-brained weight goal but also her seemingly intentional need for attention using a perverted, reverse cry for help. Like she’d be somehow invisible without it all. Is this a cry for help? Does she want to not be in this situation (her life, relationship, be a mom, etc.) and this is how she sees getting out of it? Does she want this attention and would she try to get to this goal without it?Does she even have any self-esteem and/or respect left? Might you want to lose it once you’ve gotten to 1,000 pounds? And, if so, do you think that will be as easy as packing the weight on?

I have so many questions because I think it’s important to keep your head on straight when it comes to weight loss, and this woman and her “goal” is scary for two reasons. One, this WILL and IS getting her the attention she wants. And yes, I am included in that. Two – there might be people out there so weak-minded (and not in a cruel way just in a lost way) that might say “hey, I need and want attention, too, so I’ll do this too.” But while I am part of that media circus surrounding this story I also do it do say to all my readers “DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME! THIS IS STUPID! THE HUMAN BODY WAS NEVER MADE TO WEIGH 1,000 POUNDS AND IF YOU DO THAT YOU ARE EATING YOURSELF TO DEATH!”

Yesterday I wrote about a dear friend in Chicago struggling to help save the life of one of her dear friends, “Elle,” who doesn’t want to address her own weight loss and health issues, and how that is killing her. How my friend’s friends have all given up and are willing to turn a blind eye to Elle who obviously is feeling so far gone it’s too late. But it’s not too late, neither for Elle or for Donna Simpson. I go back to my own weight loss tenets:

TELL EVERYONE to build a support system and to hold yourself more accountable

WHEN YOU CAN, PURGE YOUR “FAT CLOTHES” to give yourself no way back to being larger

LOVE YOURSELF ENOUGH TO START AND BE BE FORGIVING OF YOURSELF TO CONTINUE

KNOW THIS WILL TAKE TIME – Sustained weight loss and maintenance should and will be a part of your life for the rest of your life.

KNOWING YOU ARE WORTH IT TO MAKE THE TIME – You are so worth this effort and work, and you are so worth the rewards you will see on your journey.

YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

Keeping these in mind can and does help. Believe me, and I use them myself every day in my quest to re-achieve my weight loss goal of 225 pounds. And as of today I am down a pound. And as hard as that pound was to take off I will continue to whittle down, pound by precious pound, my number. It is that important. Quality of life is that important. And while I am no where naive enough to think the questions of one freelance reporter amount to a hill of beans in this crazy weight-gaining world, maybe the collective questions from us all, the offer from that doctor and the eyes of her own children will be enough to have her stop this insanity and return to the land of the living.

We will see. Stay tuned…

What do I want? What Do I want?

How many times have we asked that very question to ourselves standing at the counter of our usual coffee shop or restaurant? That is the very question that usually starts my day when I am in line or going through the drive-thru getting my morning coffee from Dunkin’ Donuts.

Some people like Starbucks. Some like Seattle’s Best. In these parts (Southern New Jersey) some people choose Wawa (hey, don’t make fun of the name – Wawa kicks every other convenient store’s butt) my usual is a Dunkin’ Donuts medium hot coffee with extra cream and extra sugar (it’s bad I know but I like a little coffee with my sugar). But today was slightly different. I was feeling a bit hungry today. I wanted some breakfast-type thing, and the more people in front of me the more time I have to anticipate, test my taste buds and make a decision about what my coffee would be washing down.

So I started thinking about my usual Dunkin’ Donuts Egg & Cheese Wake Up Wrap. How tasty that simple (and not very calorie-filled) egg and cheese would be. But then the smells hit me and I became distracted by the smells of bacon, sausage and the oh-so tempting bagels passing by me. That got me all discombobulated and I had visions of a big ol’ sausage, egg and cheese sandwich on a croissant. “Ooh, that would be good,” I thought as I took one step/person closer to the counter.

Then, matters got worse. I then got a good look at all the freshly-made doughnuts behind the cashiers. There were jelly-filled, chocolate-covered and muffin delights by the dozen calling out like puppies or kittens saying “take me home, take me home.” Grrrrr. I love a good Boston Crème doughnut, too.

I got one person closer. It’s almost decision time. What will I have? The simple Egg & Cheese Wake Up Wrap didn’t seem enough just then but I knew I shouldn’t have the bulk, fat and calories of a full-on breakfast sandwich. What will I have? What will I have?

Then it’s my turn. I step up to the counter and greet the cashier who is now looking at me with that “hurry up and order, there’s a hundred people behind you” look in her eyes. It was then that I made my final decision.

“One medium hot coffee with extra cream and extra sugar please,” I said.

Knowing her inevitable response I sturdied myself – “Will there be anything else?”

My answer was simple but definite. “No, thank you.”

It took all my will power (or in my case Bill power) this morning to resist the temptations of those foods. While I know I will eat any and everything in moderation on my weight loss journey, today somehow felt different like if I had had that sausage-filled breakfast sandwich or bagel with extra cream cheese it would have led me down a slippery slope all weekend. And that was something I was definitely didn’t want to do.

So I took my coffee and thanked the cashier, who acknowledged my thanks in the same nod she gave the next patron asking for their order, and felt better. No, I felt lighter. For while the person in front of me and the person behind ordered a breakfast sandwich and bagel with cream cheese, respectively, I knew in my gut I had made a smarter food choice today.

So what did I end up having for breakfast? Fruit…

…and a nice cup of hot coffee with extra cream and extra sugar.