Oh, what I wouldn’t do for a donut…. *cue Homer Simpson drool*
That’s actually a picture of Krispy Kreme’s whole wheat donuts, as if them being whole wheat makes them any better for you. Hey, it’s whole grains, so it will only get a little less clogged in your arteries! Fuck outta here.
At the end of most days I try to just sort of mentally make note of what it is I ate throughout the day. I don’t actually note it down, cause it’s not like I’m a writer or anything. But I try to just see if I ate anything that was particularly bad for me, and nope, I can’t say that I do. Today alone (mind you, it’s almost 6pm), I’ve only eaten a bowl of Corn Flakes for breakfast with a cup of coffee, and I just had a grilled chicken salad that I made myself (thank you George Foreman). On an ordinary day I’d probably have eaten a piece of fruit or two by now, but since I woke up at something like 2pm cause I live such a care free life like that, obviously I’ve only had time for the two meals. I’ll probably have some steamed vegetables, brown rice, and a buffalo burger (sans the bun) for dinner. That’s if I even eat dinner, which for the past two weeks or so I haven’t been doing so much of. I just haven’t gotten around to cooking, so I eat another bowl of cereal and call it a day. Not the healthiest thing in the world, but what can ya do.
What’s ill is how I see people- some of them friends of mine- who eat like Tony Soprano. Meaning, they eat dinner 5 times a day. It’s like they have bottomless stomachs, they never get full. Turkey egg and cheese with hash browns or home fries for breakfast, with a snapple or coffee. Cookies for dessert. Chinese food for lunch. Some chips for a snack. Then a sandwich for another snack. Then pizza for dinner, washed down with a big 20 oz. Coke. And they do this every day. How? Well actually it’s not that hard, I’ve done it myself at times. But eventually it catches up to you.
So as much as I say I’d love to have a donut, the reality is I walk past dunkin donuts and country donuts every day (they’re both a block away from me), and I never get anything. Maybe a coffee at most, but even that’s rare because I rather brew my own. I never thought it’d be so easy to turn down junk food, but it’s amazing how I don’t even think about it anymore. It’s like once the sugar is out of your blood stream, the cravings are gone. I do think the more you take account of what you eat, like where you actually write it out and analyze how unhealthy it is, the more opportunity you have to see just what you should eliminate. So ask yourself, what have I eaten today?
One of the craziest things about losing weight is noticing the little nuances of how the outside world reacts to this new version of you. When I was about four weeks in on this diet, I’d dropped something like 25 pounds, and while the weight loss wasn’t incredibly noticeable to people who didn’t see me everyday, I was definitely more svelte and overall just a bit smaller and less imposing. I’d be on the train and out of the corner of my eye I’d notice someone staring at me. I might look back at them, and in the past they’d look away, but now their gaze remained steady, and we’d match eyes for a moment. It could be a girl or a guy, it didn’t matter (pause!), it was more the principle of it. I’d walk into a store and instead of being greeted by any scowl from the person behind the counter (as in, “What the fuck do you want from me, fat boy?”), they’d now smile and be happy to deal with me. Even in my building where I live, I rarely had many conversations with other residents, but now I was noticing that everyone who passed me in the hallway had a word or two for me. Everyone wanted a moment of my time. Nothing crazy, but just being more friendly. I guess a red head fella weighing in at an imposing 250+ pounds doesn’t look too friendly. A little thinner version of that guy does though.
The biggest change I noticed was when I was walking on the street. I admit it, I pretty much look at every one on the street. I’m an observer when I’m out in public. I watch people from distance, see how they move, how they’re gliding down the street as they’re walking in my direction, how their arms sway back and forth, the gate in their stride, and then I notice whether they lift or turn their face for that brief second where we can make eye contact. Before I lost this weight, very few people would look at me in that brief second. I chalked it up to being a New York thing, people are just too busy to pay attention to others. But not really. It’s not that people don’t pay attention, it’s that I wasn’t catching anyone’s eye. Or at least not in a positive way.
And then I had to give it some thought. When I’m observing people, their could be 20 people on the street, and my eyes scan what’s available to look at and I subconsciously just pick whatever it is that catches my attention, usually a hot chick, if there’s one available. I wouldn’t be a guy if I wasn’t looking, bottom line. The fact that my eyes disregard everything else says a lot about the way my brain works, and I think it’s the same for other people.
It’s not that people weren’t looking at me before. No. It’s that they saw me from two blocks away, assessed me for what I was, and decided to disregard my fat ass!
It’s all good, because like I said, I do the same, and when I was some big fat schlub I’d have ignored me too. From two blocks away I can see what’s what and sort of make that decision in my own mind that I’m going to focus on the most eye-catching person in this throng of people walking around. If that happens to be some bad bitch, then that’s just what it is. It doesn’t always have to be that way, just saying.
I think we need to just get this whole idea out in the open though. Let’s not pretend like we don’t size people up via their looks in like two seconds, or as I’m pointing out, two blocks away minimum.
What do you think, does this idea hold any merit? And if you’ve lost weigh and reintroduced yourself to the world at some point, did you notice a difference in how many eyes now look at you as opposed to before? I know I do.
One of my biggest pet peeves when I’m out in public is when someone calls me “Big Guy.” Like, “Hey, Big Guy, what can I get you?” I think that’s the most impolite shit someone could possibly say to another person. If I said that to a female, like “Hey, Big Girl, what can I get you?” There would be hell to pay. But guys get away with it for some reason, because there’s this social more that has been passed down from generation to generation that made it cool to be a big guy. Think of the guy from the Brawny Paper Towels. At one time, people wanted to look like that guy! Or at least have their paper towels be strong like that.
But seriously, I’m not really sensitive about much in life, particularly the way people speak (have you ever heard the way I talk? I fucking curse more than Eddie Murphy), but when I walk into a health food restaurant I don’t expect the guy behind the counter to call me Big Buy. I think that’s in poor taste, particularly in a health food restaurant. The one I usually go to is down the block from me, called Healthy Grill, in St. George, Staten Island. It’s like right up the steps from the Ferry on Stuyvesant. It actually opened recently, I want to say something like three months ago. But all in all, I think the language you use when you speak to customers is so important to making them feel welcome, feel good, and want to come back for more. Fuck the food. The food should be good, bottom line. If you make something decent, half the battle is won. Now win the other half, treat the customer right.
All in all, I hate being looked at as a Big Guy. I know the guy behind the counter can’t help but call me that (at least for now he can’t, while I’m still well, sort of a big guy), but soon he’ll be singing a different tune, as I continue my drop in size. I no longer want to be looked at as a big dude, which I will elaborate more on in a post soon to come.
You see what that says? 199 pounds mothafuckas!!!! I weighed myself at 254 lbs when I started the Fat Smash Diet on the morning of March 10th. Here I stand, in the middle of my 12th week on the diet, 55 pounds lighter. Up until a few weeks ago I was tracking my progress on the forums over at FatSmashForum.com, but since people stopped responding to my posts I just stopped writing. Plus I got in contact with Dr. Ian Smith’s office directly (he’s the creator of the diet), and that was satisfying enough. I just needed someone to hear about my success, and if you’ve seen me out lately or talked to me on the phone or via IM, you know I’ve been probably chatting your ear off about this weight loss and diet program.
Anyway, last week my treadmill broke and that was a real downer for me. I’m used to getting that runner’s high now, and I really need to run 6 days a week for me to feel right. Plus I run twice a day. So not having the treadmill was going to be a big loss. Instead, I hit the stairs in my building, running the 6 flights twenty times consecutively. Additionally, at night I would walk from my apartment in St. George to my father’s house in Graniteville, which is literally a 6 mile hike up Victory blvd. Then, on Sunday, I felt like I needed to get this runner’s itch taken care of, so I just ran that 6 miles to my father’s house. I woke up tired as shit the next day, but felt good. So I did it again yesterday, this time running from my apartment to Clove Road and back (beats waiting for the bus).
Anyway, it’s like the middle of my 12th week, and because week #2 after the 9 day Detox period started on a Wednesday, I’m going to run this bad boy out until next Wednesday, so tomorrow is the official weigh in day. I just couldn’t wait. Oh, I got the belt I needed to the treadmill, and I fixed it yesterday, so I hit the mill earlier today, and man did it feel good to have my baby back up and running.
I know I haven’t written diddly squat in the past few months, and guess what, in that time I’ve actually seen Juno, go figure lol. Point was, I set a goal for myself at the beginning of this diet, told myself I would get down to my healthy BMI weight of 185 lbs. But since I was at 254 at the time, and quite honestly I feel like even that number was being conservative as I probably weighed even more than that, I knew just getting down below 200 lbs was a pipe dream. I’d started so many diets in the past and slacked off of everything, no discipline whatsoever. I didn’t have high hopes for myself with this, but after losing something like 10 lbs in the first 9 days, I knew this diet and exercise regimen was for real and that I needed to stick with it.
I can’t express the joy and happiness that I feel right now for being below 200 lbs. I don’t think I have been less than 200 lbs since my senior year in Port Richmond High School, and if my memory serves me correctly I think I was even more than 200 pounds back then. I know at one point during my junior year, when I played varsity basketball, I had gotten a real bad case of the flu and dropped to about 175 pounds. But that summer from junior to senior year I gained a lot of weight and was over 200 lbs. Now I’m sure at some point I lost some of the weight and got below 200, but once I hit college I ballooned. I even got my college ID from CUNY CSI right next to me, which I got when I was 18 years old in September of 2000, and I’m looking at it and I look huge.
I remember this girl Tenisha, who I sort of had a thing for back in high school (she was a year older than me and thus graduated before I did), saw me some time in the early summer of 2001 (during my freshman year in college), and I remember the first words out of her mouth were, “Wow, you gained weight.” Which I did. I’d become a fat fuck. Now I couldn’t even beat it like I wanted to. Fuck!
Some time around late 2003, during my senior year in college, I hit the gym pretty hard for maybe two to three months and dropped from something like 225 or 230 to 214. That was the lowest point, and that was while taking Hydroxycut. Now after I left my house in spring of 2004, I wasn’t able to go to the gym as much, plus my gym buddy Robert Manning went away to the army and he was a real inspiration to me because he’d lost something like 70 lbs. Now he was gone and hitting the gym was becoming inconvenient, and I was running up in record label offices all day and by night in the studio. So it got hard to keep up the cardio, but I didn’t really gain any weight. That is, until the fall of 2004 came around, when Cue bounced to Florida and we got the rid of the studio and I became very sedentary. Plus I was eating fast food every day (Matt Fingaz and Roy Rogers is a bad combination), so I blew up like a balloon again. Probably gained 15 pounds back real quick. And my confidence sort of dropped, I stopped wanting to go out and be social as much as before.
I pretty much stayed that weight until August of 2006, when I started the late nights at Lifestyle Studio. Fucking Adam Santiago and his damn Dominos Pizza orders at 2am! Plus I was hitting the store off the Clove Road exit on the highway at like 4am, eating mad turkey sandwiches on bagels and breaded chicken fingers and all kinds of other dumb shit. When I went to LA in September of that year I took a few flicks and looked like a fucking stay puffed marshmallow man.
Which is when I decided to buy a treadmill. That was early December, 2006. Went to Sears with my pops, copped a Nordic Track for like 700 bucks. I started going hard on it in early January- after Elana had lost like 40 lbs in a college semester and was looking like a top model. I needed to step my game up. Hit the treadmill and was watching what I was eating for around three months, lost 13 pounds or so, and then I just started to get sick pretty regularly. I think it was that fucking Harris Publications office, so much dust in that place. Every three weeks I was coming down with some shit and it kept throwing my workout schedule off. Plus my back was hurting a lot, not knowing at the time that it was from my lack of stretching beforehand.
Then I moved to St. George, and worked out every now and again but didn’t really watch what I ate. So I didn’t lose much weight. Maybe 5 pounds total. This whole time I was floating somewhere around the 255-260 mark. I wasn’t eating poorly per se, just not great. Too much white bread, too much ice cream, too much white rice, too much late night eating, portion sizes too big.
Around my birthday, February 3rd, I went out for a night on the town. A rare occasion if anyone knows how I get down these days. A day later my back was killing me. I couldn’t even enjoy a day with my brother and father because I was in such poor health. Writing that god forsaken Sucker Free Blog for MTV and the Scratch blog for XXLmag.com had me sitting on my ass a good portion of the day. I’d become too sedentary, and again when I decided to work out I wasn’t stretching. I recall missing a meeting at MTV, and considering that I never miss ANYTHING, I decided this was the last straw.
In 3 months time my back had gotten fucked up twice to the point where I was in bed for a week each turn. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to lose weight, and fast. I needed to reclaim the inner Gooch. The guy who used to run the basketball court non-stop guarding a team’s best player, the dude who used to be able to dive for a loose ball and then get back down the court for a lay-up on the other end. I needed to be me again. No more excuses, no more telling myself it was the music business doing this. Nothing else should matter except this, getting in shape.
And so here I am. Back to a manageable weight, not looking like some big fat doofball (did anyone see that picture of my big fat ass and Grandmaster Flash from mid-November 2007? Oh god, shoot me), and on my quest down to 185 lbs. Considering that I lost something like 16 pounds in the month of May alone, I do believe I will be at 185 rather quickly. Perhaps by the first or second week in July. Who’s the man?