The Travails of the Fat
With the holidays coming on, I fear for my life. I should probably explain.
I love eating. I rank it right up there with breathing. And the stretch of space between Thanksgiving and Christmas is, traditionally, my Happy Time. I gorge for a month solid because, in my experience, everyone cooks the best food between those two days. Cookies are a bit sweeter, steaks a bit juicier and chicken a bit crisper. By New Year’s, I want to take a coma and I can’t eat sweets for a month.
Obviously, it’s my favorite time of year. It usually is for fat people.
This year, however, I’ve gone in a different direction. Between my earlier weight loss, which has unfortunately hit a plateau, and my desire to hit a lower goal weight, I’m trying not to balloon back up to Fat Bastard proportions. I will be remaining a regular bastard, though.
And so, with my wife beginning a diet Monday, I decided to join in. By my logic, if I spend the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas dieting I can eat my fill during Christmas parties and not look like the Michelin Man when all is said and done.
Since then, I’ve noticed two very specific things. The first is that food commercials are everywhere during the holidays. They are everywhere, each looks more succulent than the last and it makes me hate my television. I don’t even like Hardees, but they can take that Memphis Thickburger and Chocolate Chip Cookie Ice Cream Sandwich and go straight to hell.
The second is that the food I can eat pales in comparison to the food I want to eat. Not a shocking revelation, but the drop off between my usual food and what I can eat on the diet is pretty shocking. Lots of lettuce, lots of eggs, no starch. SUGAR IS NOT ALLOWED! In any form. No Diet Dr. Pepper, no Snickers bar, no apples. I never thought I would miss apples. I can eat sugar-free Fudgsicles, which taste about how you would expect with the added bonus that they look like frozen turdlets. I devoured one today like it was a Five Guys burger (God, I miss Five Guys).
Obviously, I am very stupid. This is not a good time to start a diet. Not only will I be miserable by next week, it’s going to be a constant struggle the rest of the month to not eat all of the delectable goodies that will be out for consumption. For God’s Sake, this is the time of year people bring baked treats to work every day! What am I doing?
Now I’m living for Christmas parties. I’ve made an agreement with myself that I will still eat like a normal human on those times, for sanity’s sake if nothing else. When the time comes to eat my salad or go my seventh day in a row without caffeine or booze (hasn’t happened yet, but it’s coming), I think about downing 17 pigs in a blanket or working on my fifth rum and coke at some function in December.
I also think about being skinny. Since I haven’t really been skinny in a while – I don’t count ‘being less fat’ as being skinny – I would really like to get back to that place. Noticing my potbelly and man-boobs in the mirror every morning has a way of forcing a man to take stock of his lifestyle.
So I’m looking forward to miserably watching the pounds melt away and living for the moment in the morning where I step on the scale and notice I’ve lost 0.2 pounds from the day before. I used to lose that much just by waking up and getting out of bed, so I suppose that’s an improvement. Pray for me these next few weeks; I’ll need it.
(Get ready for more rants about this too, because fat people like nothing better than to complain when they don’t get food. You skinny folks won’t understand.)