May 25, 2014
Not only is it Weigh Day, it's Sunday dinner. A time when we invite friends and family into our home to share a meal. As you know Lisa is a chef and also a caterer. It's the caterer part that creates the issues. Caterers have one overpowering fear. Hold that thought.
Let me tell you about my day, Weigh Day! I was hoping to launch a space poop shuttle into the Porcelain Nebula, but alas, like yesterday and the day before, I was Lost In Space! Inner Space that is. Trapped inside by the gravity of Uranus, well, my anus.
Ten o'clock Thursday morning was the last time I had liftoff. I took a dose of Milk of Magnesia twenty -four hours ago ...Nada, zilch, nothing! I've shown you pictures of what I've been eating. I got roughage out the yahoo! Well I would if my yahoo wasn't bunged up! Now my friend Karen and my sister Cathy are telling me to go easy on the Phillips. It can create a sphincter dependency. I'm paraphrasing here. But sphincter dependency sounds like a real thing. " Can he be saved Doctor?" "Yes, but he'll have to be desphinctered twice a day for six weeks."" Oh, thank you Doctor, He's always been a perfect asshole!" That's Lisa talking to the Doctor.
I had my breakfast of two hard boiled eggs and an avocado. Thinking maybe I need to prime the pump. Wash it down with two cups of coffee and head to the Green Room. I can't believe how bad I felt about skipping yesterdays workout. I'm glad that I do. That I care enough about this to feel bad. My history has been to say, it's only one day, then another and another. Till you've convinced yourself it wasn't working anyway.
I'mmmmm Baaaaaack, thats right folks. Step right up and see the Fatman touch his toes. I couldn't at first, my hamstrings were so tight. I used the stairs to slowly stretch out my hammies first one leg and then the other. I did thirty toe touches. I actually touched both my toes at the same time, three maybe four times in a row. At least twelve times I touched one toe or the other. I was listing slightly to starboard, so the right toe got extra lovin! The rest, a clean miss. I was bending over but my toes were avoiding me.
Princess Barbie awaits. The problem with me and sit ups is, when I try to sit up, my long forgotten stomach muscles push my fat into the middle of my belly, like a camels hump or Pamela Anderson's Boobs. Her old boobs. You know, the gigantic ridiculous ones, not the new ones. Can't keep em straight without a program.
Needless to say I'm still stuck on zero sit ups. I tell you, the day I do one, "Then you may leave the temple, Squatchhopper!"
I'm not going to say it's getting easier. That's just because it's not getting easier. Okay, physically I find it easier to do the workout. Mentally, that's another story. Ten reps in a set of crunches. Ten sets is one hundred crunches. I did it two days ago, I can do it again today. The first eighty went by pretty smooth. Using the stopwatch on my wrist I take thirty second breaks between sets.
The last twenty were a challenge. I count them out when I do them. Lisa came tearing down stairs at seven because she thought I'd hurt myself. Thirty seconds later, with Lisa standing over me, I did my last ten crunches. The last few screaming like I was giving birth! "You're going to hurt yourself you Crazy Bastard" she said, love dripping from her voice as she abandoned me to my fate.
Before I regale you with my ride on the Maiden. I want to thank Lisa for putting up with all my crap. She also takes the pictures of me working out. Except the bad ones . That's me trying to use the self timer.
Lisa has suggested I put a cushion or two on the Iron Maiden. If I do that, the Terrorists win. I don't know what that means, but I hear a lot of people on Fox news saying it.
At any rate the discomfort of her anti-ergonomic seat design works as a kind of early numb butt warning system. At forty minutes I lose the feeling in my cheeks. Five minutes later my legs. Homeland, is over. Then I Utube for fifteen or twenty minutes. I must lose two or three quarts of liquid every time I work out. Today was no different. Or was it?
It's Weigh Day! I put it off as long as I could hoping for a Poop Fairy Drive By, but no luck. So at four o'clock I headed into the bathroom . Standing in front of the scale, full length mirror beside me. I glance over and I am reminded why I'm doing this. Because I'm a Fat Bastard that's why! At that moment when your foot touches the cold glass of the scale, when your mouth goes dry and your pulse races. A chill runs down my spine. You realise Elvis followed you in and is licking the back of your knee! That split second in time, when with the blue lights spinning and all the work you put in running through your mind, you think, I wish I could have pooped.
Down from 307.4 or 139.181818 kilo. That's still down 545.45454545 grams. You gotta admit, that it looks impressive! Like I said, I know my body shape is changing. I put on a pair of forty-six shorts today. I started in a fifty! I can smell my thong! That may not have been the best choice of words. When you take into account I have three days worth of food in me, I feel good about this.
With that off my mind, let the feast begin! The greatest fear a caterer has, is to run out of food. That has never happened at our house. We had nine adults and both Grandkids for dinner tonight. We could have fed twice that many. I'm not complaining, love my lefties.
Roast Pork, Garlic rice Pilaf, two types of squash, heaps of broccoli, Squatch salad, pickles and an amazing gravy Lisa made from scratch, using a stock she made last time we had ham.
What a great hockey game tonight. Shame about the result, but an exceptional effort by Les Canadiens. After the game I took Momma Lee home.
Got back and helped Lisa with the dishes. Then sat down and started writing. I would have liked better numbers, but everything considered. I'm down eighteen pounds, four inches off my waist, my blood sugar is perfect and I feel great, when I'm not doing dishes!
Life is full of choices. I choose to continue with the program I am on. I want to be here and be healthy enough to enjoy the blessings in my life. My family, my friends they're the things of value in my life. All the rest is just stuff.
That's all I got.
Till next time
Peace out Ya'll
©2014 Dave Squatch Ward
Let me tell you about my day, Weigh Day! I was hoping to launch a space poop shuttle into the Porcelain Nebula, but alas, like yesterday and the day before, I was Lost In Space! Inner Space that is. Trapped inside by the gravity of Uranus, well, my anus.
Ten o'clock Thursday morning was the last time I had liftoff. I took a dose of Milk of Magnesia twenty -four hours ago ...Nada, zilch, nothing! I've shown you pictures of what I've been eating. I got roughage out the yahoo! Well I would if my yahoo wasn't bunged up! Now my friend Karen and my sister Cathy are telling me to go easy on the Phillips. It can create a sphincter dependency. I'm paraphrasing here. But sphincter dependency sounds like a real thing. " Can he be saved Doctor?" "Yes, but he'll have to be desphinctered twice a day for six weeks."" Oh, thank you Doctor, He's always been a perfect asshole!" That's Lisa talking to the Doctor.
I had my breakfast of two hard boiled eggs and an avocado. Thinking maybe I need to prime the pump. Wash it down with two cups of coffee and head to the Green Room. I can't believe how bad I felt about skipping yesterdays workout. I'm glad that I do. That I care enough about this to feel bad. My history has been to say, it's only one day, then another and another. Till you've convinced yourself it wasn't working anyway.
I'mmmmm Baaaaaack, thats right folks. Step right up and see the Fatman touch his toes. I couldn't at first, my hamstrings were so tight. I used the stairs to slowly stretch out my hammies first one leg and then the other. I did thirty toe touches. I actually touched both my toes at the same time, three maybe four times in a row. At least twelve times I touched one toe or the other. I was listing slightly to starboard, so the right toe got extra lovin! The rest, a clean miss. I was bending over but my toes were avoiding me.
Princess Barbie awaits. The problem with me and sit ups is, when I try to sit up, my long forgotten stomach muscles push my fat into the middle of my belly, like a camels hump or Pamela Anderson's Boobs. Her old boobs. You know, the gigantic ridiculous ones, not the new ones. Can't keep em straight without a program.
 |
| My belly hump! |
Needless to say I'm still stuck on zero sit ups. I tell you, the day I do one, "Then you may leave the temple, Squatchhopper!"
I'm not going to say it's getting easier. That's just because it's not getting easier. Okay, physically I find it easier to do the workout. Mentally, that's another story. Ten reps in a set of crunches. Ten sets is one hundred crunches. I did it two days ago, I can do it again today. The first eighty went by pretty smooth. Using the stopwatch on my wrist I take thirty second breaks between sets.
 |
| No one said it was pretty! |
The last twenty were a challenge. I count them out when I do them. Lisa came tearing down stairs at seven because she thought I'd hurt myself. Thirty seconds later, with Lisa standing over me, I did my last ten crunches. The last few screaming like I was giving birth! "You're going to hurt yourself you Crazy Bastard" she said, love dripping from her voice as she abandoned me to my fate.
Before I regale you with my ride on the Maiden. I want to thank Lisa for putting up with all my crap. She also takes the pictures of me working out. Except the bad ones . That's me trying to use the self timer.
 |
| We don't need no stinkin' cushions! |
At any rate the discomfort of her anti-ergonomic seat design works as a kind of early numb butt warning system. At forty minutes I lose the feeling in my cheeks. Five minutes later my legs. Homeland, is over. Then I Utube for fifteen or twenty minutes. I must lose two or three quarts of liquid every time I work out. Today was no different. Or was it?
It's Weigh Day! I put it off as long as I could hoping for a Poop Fairy Drive By, but no luck. So at four o'clock I headed into the bathroom . Standing in front of the scale, full length mirror beside me. I glance over and I am reminded why I'm doing this. Because I'm a Fat Bastard that's why! At that moment when your foot touches the cold glass of the scale, when your mouth goes dry and your pulse races. A chill runs down my spine. You realise Elvis followed you in and is licking the back of your knee! That split second in time, when with the blue lights spinning and all the work you put in running through your mind, you think, I wish I could have pooped.
 |
| Down a tad. |
Down from 307.4 or 139.181818 kilo. That's still down 545.45454545 grams. You gotta admit, that it looks impressive! Like I said, I know my body shape is changing. I put on a pair of forty-six shorts today. I started in a fifty! I can smell my thong! That may not have been the best choice of words. When you take into account I have three days worth of food in me, I feel good about this.
With that off my mind, let the feast begin! The greatest fear a caterer has, is to run out of food. That has never happened at our house. We had nine adults and both Grandkids for dinner tonight. We could have fed twice that many. I'm not complaining, love my lefties.
Roast Pork, Garlic rice Pilaf, two types of squash, heaps of broccoli, Squatch salad, pickles and an amazing gravy Lisa made from scratch, using a stock she made last time we had ham.
 |
| Pork Picnic Shoulder perfectly cooked |
 |
| Never run out! The battle cry of the caterer. |
 |
| And we didn't |
 |
| Fruit platter |
 |
| Squatch plate, spagetti squash yum yum. See K, broccoli. |
 |
| Nutmeg and Elvis liked it too! |
What a great hockey game tonight. Shame about the result, but an exceptional effort by Les Canadiens. After the game I took Momma Lee home.
Got back and helped Lisa with the dishes. Then sat down and started writing. I would have liked better numbers, but everything considered. I'm down eighteen pounds, four inches off my waist, my blood sugar is perfect and I feel great, when I'm not doing dishes!
Life is full of choices. I choose to continue with the program I am on. I want to be here and be healthy enough to enjoy the blessings in my life. My family, my friends they're the things of value in my life. All the rest is just stuff.
That's all I got.
Till next time
Peace out Ya'll
©2014 Dave Squatch Ward
Hey Dave...big mike here...Lynn and Guys friend....we banged some bongos in a deer lake mansion many new years ago....however.....the blog is dynomite... Inspiring and funny....I put on an extra 100 lbs after a car accident where I broke my pelvis shoulder arm and my bloody femur...I've had every excuse to be a fat bastard but I don't want to be anymore....my kids like me...perhaps even need me for a bit.....I'm going to follow your progress and begin mine....mine progress??...anyhow....thanks....mike...aka Fred Zeplon
ReplyDeleteHey Mike
ReplyDeleteEvery new years I talk about that one at Deer Lake. I am doing this for me, but don't think my Grandkids aren't in the back of my mind. Whatever motivation you have use it. Try to cut out the obvious carbs and don't sweat the small stuff. No bread, rice, potato or Pasta. If you eliminate them the weight has no choice. You will feel better when your body is not struggling to deal with all those carbs. Any thing I can do to help you let me know. It will just be an ear, and moral support, because you are the only one that can do it.
squatchbc@yahoo.com. Peace out Bro and good luck!