Hitting the Reset Button

First, seeing as how the very first thing that people do when they see that there is some sort of video on any given page is watch said video, I will explain it: I have no affiliation with www.pmemusic.com, they just have there website on this video, and it's a video I like for a variety of reasons, so I'm using it anyways. No, that poor soul is not me, I have never been even close to that big, but I do feel as though he is a kindred spirit. I say this because he knows he is large, but that does not stop him from having fun with it. We both take a look at some of the lemons in life that we have grown for ourselves or received, sells those lemons at a farmers market and buy banana cream pie with that money. Lots and lots of banana cream pie.

There is a reason for using this video beyond it's hilarity. This post is about trying to lose weight, committing and screwing it all up anyways. Some people call it backsliding. Now if I had the contact info for this gentlemen and his disproportionate water slide I would have requested a video of him sliding down it on his back (backslide..... get it?) But instead I will leave that aquatic adventure to your imagination.

For those of us that have lived through the joys of being rotund we know that the worst thing in the world is to fall off the horse. No, we do not hit terminal velocity faster than skinny people (a myth that I think is public service announcement worthy), but when our fall inevitably stops and our impact begins, more of us hits the ground than skinny folks. What do we do when we fall off the horse? Pick ourselves back up, dust ourselves off and clamber back on top of that comically small shetland pony. Simple enough for skinny folk, but again it's a little different for the large-and-often-not-in-charge. With greater mass we have more to pick up, with greater surface area we have more to dust off, and we feel for the shetland pony, but this must be done. We need to get back on.

So we hit the reset button and start all over. This time I've called in some additional reinforcements. I am dealing with plateaus but I've lost 20lbs. I've got 60-75 to go before I'll be happy with it. So, if you find that like our brother in the video you are slipping down a slide and your water:flesh:slide ratio is a bit skewed, know this. There is an end to the slide (enjoy the splash!) and after the slide is over you can get up and try reaching those goals again. See you on the pony.

Herman Melville Is My Swim Buddy

"There she blows!--there she blows!! A hump like a snow hill! It is ______"

Pop quiz!

1) Does the preceding line end with:

a- Travis

b- Moby Dick

c-something more clever than either I or Herman Melville could come up with

2) Was this sentence uttered by:

a- The 110 lb lifeguard at my gym.

b- Captain Ahab

c- Both

Whew! That was a doozy of a quiz. As you may be able to gather from the questions I went swimming for my workout today. Included in this post is an artists caricature of me doing so. Swimming at my gym is an interesting proposition. Yes, swimming is the low impact workout of choice for the girthfull. The problem is my gym's pool is situated behind very large, very translucent windows right next to the front counter where every person checks in. If you work out at my gym you pass those windows. Be that as it may I swam, and in so doing felt like I belonged at Sea World. I kept an eye on the lifeguard because I thought at any moment he would don a wetsuit and attempt to get me to leap through hoops for mackerel.

Swimming is exhausting. I swam and swam and swam, eventually my strokes went from a semblance of good form to inept slapping at the water. Stick a harpoon in me; I am done. When you are tired after swimming you sit in the hot tub, right? Not today Moby! Just as I was about to climb out of the pool a couple decided to climb into the hot tub and grow somewhat amorous. The little devil on my shoulder told me to climb my fat butt into that hot tub and stare at the couple like a creeper (see accompanying picture of creepy guy) until they grew uncomfortable and left me in peace.

The angel on my shoulder told me to go sit in the sauna and leave the couple alone. Good storytelling dictates that I do the former, while in reality I did the latter. Oh well.

The sauna reminds me of the old Indian sweat lodge except with a lot less hallucinogens. You sit and you sweat, and as we all know the only thing more enjoyable the a mobile sweaty fat guy is a stationary one. After sweating it with some oldies for a while I took one last dive into the pool. Tired of feeling awkward I decided to turn the table on my fellow man.

"SCREEEEEEEE!!!" (direct quote) I screeched in best whale tone while breaching the water and entering back in with a thunderous clap. My best whale impersonation was pretty good. "SCREEEEEEE!!!!" I bellowed once more with yet another breech from the 4 ft. deep pool. Before I hit the water I noticed that the lifeguard and the other pool denizens were changing their looks of shock to that of laughter. I'm glad people still have a sense of humor. With a few more breeches and accompanying noises, I was spent and leaned against the wall of the pool pleased with my performance. The one guy in the pool who didn't think it was funny promptly pulled himself out of the pool and did literally 75 push-ups on the pool deck. While he took a shower I slashed his tires. (Only part of the story that is not true)

Gymdgement

You may be able to tell from some of what I'm willing to share about myself on the Internet that I am pretty difficult to embarrass. Rare is the situation where I am not able to freely crack jokes, be they weight related or otherwise. The one place that has made me truly uncomfortable after gaining so much weight is the gym.
It starts with the entrance and it's accompanying desk lackey waiting to scan your key-chain tag and allow you to enter. I consider it a good day when the scanner is pointed towards the door and nobody is at the desk, that's one gymdgemental stare that I can avert. Where to from here?
I stare at the shiny equipment and the gym denizens who all look like they could use a cheeseburger and think to myself 'Where is the wildebeest section?' My wife tells me that I need to do cardio first so I lumber upstairs to the long term torture devices. A sign on the wall reads "Please limit yourself to 30 minutes on the treadmill and elliptical machines if other members are waiting." Only because you asked so nice! Have you ever seen a 250+ lb guy try and jog on a treadmill? Have you ever heard one do it? I climb onto the machine of perpetual pain and embarrassment and press the buttons. Age: 27. Weight: 280lbs. A digital giggle is stifled by the treadmills readout screen. Workout type: Fat burn. I feel several pairs of eyes burn into me as I take the first steps. My mantra: Don't slip/fall of of the treadmill. Things are OK for the first minute, then the speed picks up. I'm listening to my music but a steady beat starts to rise in volume above it. Wondering what song the gym is playing over the speakers I take off my headset.
There is no song. The beat is me. My mass pounds mercilessly on the treadmill and the bass of the pounding echos throughout the gym. Curious weight lifters stop and look towards the treadmill to see what in the world is crashing to the ground repeatedly. All to aware of the disturbance I am causing I slow down my treadmill and climb off. Making sure to wipe off the prodigious amount of sweat I have left behind I seek my workout in other parts of the gym. My embarrassment follows. Stay tuned.

Fatiquette: Part Due

And now for the second installment of fatguy etiquette.
Digestion
Barking spiders, the old sneaky toad, the squeaky shoe, the vinyl chair, beef, toots, SBD, or farts, whatever you call them they are generally socially frowned upon. It does not matter if you are at a black tie event or if you are watching the fight in a crowded room with the guys, people notice flatulence and guess who the first suspect always is? The fatguy. Skinny people let one loose, and theirs are no less potent, but the world expects it from the fatguy first. The accusations will come either way so let's make them false. How?
WATCH WHAT YOU EAT. Can I make that more clear? If a certain food item like beans (allegedly good for your heart) makes you gassy avoid them. If you must partake of a food that causes you to be noxious, be prepared. I recommend GasX, Beano or a willingness to go outside frequently to handle some 'important phone calls'.
Finally: claim what is yours. If you do commit a foul and someone calls you on it, be it through stink eye (pun intended) or public outcry swallow your pride and claim it. Developing this gastrointestinal honesty amongst peers will force them to believe you when you deny it. Don't worry, you will not have to deal with this once you are skinny.
Pants
I like big butts (and I cannot lie) you other fatguys can't deny, when your wearing pants with a big fat waist, they fall all over the place, and you feel dumb. Newtons 10th law of physics dictate that E=Fg+(P-s)*G or embarrassment equals a fatguy plus pants without suspenders times gravity.
Here's an illustrative experiment. Supplies : One fully inflated basketball, one extra large rubber band. Method: Stretch rubber band around the basketball at a point that you could consider 2/5's the way "up" the ball. Observe results. What will happen is that the rubber band will slide off of the rounded bottom of the ball.
When a man gains weight they lose many things. Self esteem, endurance, strength, and a definable butt. The deflated tire that sits around the midsection removes any definition from where the back begins and the butt ends. This makes pants almost impossible to keep up without suspenders or a Burmese python for a belt. Solution: Lose weight, and focus on your legs. When guys work out we focus on our arms, everyone wants to sell tickets to their gun show. Focus more on your legs, core and butt. When you burn off your fat and define your body's shape again you can then focus on the cannons. Gravity is not your friend people, but your body can help if it is in the right shape. I'm trying to get mine there, I'm tired of looking like a fool with my pants on the ground.

Fatiquette: Part One.

My wife asked me in as gentle a way as possible "When you get skinny are going to stop being gross?"
This is the inspiration for today's entry. When I was a skinny guy I was fixated on every social indiscretion in a desperate attempt to be cool. As I became more and more weight endowed I focused less and less on those indiscretions. After all, I am a fatguy and as such it is my duty, nay, calling to be a source of humor in my sociotal circles. Because of this people expect the unexpected when fatguys like myself are around, and while my mind tries and tries (for my wife's sake) to be well refined, my body is an unstoppable force of yuck. So today I address a couple of those special areas.
Eating
Everything is a competition. Eating is not immune to this philosophy. The table has become the new battlefield of choice for men of all kind. Who can eat the most? Who can eat the fastest? Who can eat the grossest/spiciest/coldest/hottest/stinkiest/most toxic thing without puking/puking/getting a brain freeze/puking or puking? (Answer: Me.) From sliders (of the White Castle variety) to sliders (of the oyster variety), and hot dogs (World Champion eater Kobiashi's food of choice) to hot cats (we're looking at you Asia!) men all over the world engage in the gridiron of gluttony.
The rule of thumb for eating: If you are wondering 'Is this an appropriate activity for the dinner table' the answer is no. If you are wondering 'Will eating something this way gross out everyone else at the table?' the answer is yes. An all you can eat buffet is not a challenge from the restaurant owner, so don't make it a personal mission to "Get your money's worth". Ten dollars in fried zucchini is not good for anyone, and that brings me to my next point.
Digestion I
Digestion is the most polite word I could come up with for what I'm about to address. For the faint of heart or stomach you may want to end your reading of today's post here. Like the places marked Unknown on Pre-Columbian maps , Here be Dragons. You have been warned.
Many men pride themselves on having a "cast iron stomach". Treating your stomach like it is made of cast iron often leads to having a teflon-coated digestive tract.
Sure, enjoy your 3 lb burger (I know I have!). Top it off with some chili-cheese fries and wash it all down with a milk shake. Slice of pizza for dessert? Why not the whole pie?! After a sitting like that one can put money on the fact that those food items will fly through you faster than an Olympian bobsled with greased rails (Cool Runnings!!)
This is especially bad when you are visiting someones home. Polls that I have made up clearly show that 90% of people would rather find that a family of plague ridden rats have set up shop in their refrigerator than let an overweight man use their bathroom.
There is much more to talk about. The next post (Fatiquette: Part Due) will address more on Digestion as well as the enigma that pants present to round shaped people.

Jedi

Urge to kill rising. Wally is Hangry (Hungry and therefore Angry, phrase brought to you by the Goates'). All I can think about is two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, whatever other stuff you want to put on and a sesame seed bun. The more I think about it the more inanimate objects turn into it. I think I've eaten a tape dispenser and the cushion to my already under padded office chair. There is only one thing that can stop me when this close to engaging in a feeding frenzy.
A Jedi. Jedi Master Qui Gon Jin once said "Your focus determines your reality." How true this is. If you ever get a chance to talk to a race car driver and you ask him about being afraid of crashing into the wall, chances are he will say that he doesn't look at the wall, he looks where he is driving next. You can infer from that logic that if you look at the wall while pushing 200 mph you will drive there. Quickly.
People have powerful minds but even with that power we still allow our appetites to lead and steer us. We are like a horse and the rider is a combination of our conscience, intellect, intuition and appetites. If we let our appetites override the three other parts then it will always steer us toward Burger King. So we keep our appetites in check by focusing with all our might on a very, very specific goal. I don't care if you are not an artist, draw your goal. If you need to cut and paste a picture of a muscly guys body with your head attached, then post it in a place that you will see it several times a day. When you look at it say "That is me in (however many days you have left to meet your goal)."
We will have cravings for what we are cutting out of our life. We may not feel like we have the willpower to lift the next weight or jog the next step. At those times, remember your goal. Your focus will determine your reality. You can't argue with a Jedi.

The Great Walrus Hunt

Years ago, I had a friend who started calling me Wally. This was confusing to me at first and so I asked for an explanation. He shared with me that Wally was in fact the first part of a two part nickname that I had unknowingly earned. The second part? The Walrus. Yes, I was and am still to an extent Wally the Walrus. This was because I was fat and "Wallered around on the couch like a Walrus on the beach."

I think that throughout our lives we can relate our physicality to various animals. In the past I have been a lithe, agile and strong jungle cat. Nowadays, I am more of the Walrus/Manatee/Elephant Seal variety. When I lay on the couch and yell at the TV, there is not too much of a difference between me and a belligerent pinniped (Walrus or Seal). As a matter of fact if you covered me in fur and removed my ability to pronounce hard consonants it would be the same.

Case in point: I have played Turkey Bowl football on thanksgiving day for years. The past three thanksgivings have been in Indiana, and for roughly the past 5 thanksgivings I have been a Walrus. Now when a bull walrus is threatened and it is away from the water or guarding the other Walri (pronounced Wall-rye, plural form of walrus- also, a made up word) it charges the offender with the intent to crush him/her/them/it with his roughly 4,000lbs and then if possible gore the grease stain that was the offender repeatedly. This (or a close approximation of this) has happened every year I've played in the Turkey Bowl for the last four years. Inevitably I am chasing some poor (and much smaller) person as fast as Wally will let me. It usually ends with me trying my darnedest to get my mass to stop while Newton's Laws mock me. The aforementioned smaller person turns and sees certain doom speedily headed towards him. After an emergency evacuation of the large intestine there is a tremendous collision and I'm left cleaning up the parts of my victim in a 15-20 foot radius. The moral to this story? Being Wally has left me with less control of my body. But that's not all.

Wally has had too much of a say as to what goes on in the life of Travis. This morning while getting dressed for work I was watching a P90X infomercial. The following conversation took place in my head:

Travis: 'I need to get back to that whole P90X thing, that would really help me cut this weight off.'

Wally: (In the voice of Bullwinkle the moose) 'Uh, that looks like a lot of work. We should probably go eat some McDonalds for breakfast instead.'

Travis: 'No Wally! I had yogurt for breakfast this morning and Nikki said no fast food. Do you not remember me Scouting it yesterday?'

Wally: ' That was a decision I was against the whole time. Eat a McGriddle, then take a nap. It will feel a lot better.'



Wally is an opponent to the whole concept behind weight loss. At first he's just a little whiner, but as I continue to cut portion size and calorie intake Wally becomes a raging beast. He gets to be pretty difficult to deal with. Wally turns me into a highly irritable person for a few weeks while my stomach shrinks back to a more normal size. Luckily for me my wife is very understanding and knows how and when to keep Wally in check.
Walri have few natural predators: Polar bear, and killer whales. Wally has no predators. Until now. I've given Wally notice, and while I know he will not go without a fight I'm going to harpoon him and turn him into a nice comfy pair of mukluks. Goodbye Wally the Walrus, hello Travis the Tiger.

Scouting It

Last night as I was lying on my couch I was thinking about a couple of things.
1- Was taking the "high road" and eating a few tangerines instead of having fishsticks with my wife a wise idea?
2- Were there any fishsticks left over? (If yes see 2b)
2b- Would they taste good with ketchup? (Answer: Everything tastes good with enough ketchup.)
3- What can help me be successful in getting skinny this time instead of ending in another failure?

I was thinking about some of the posts on my facebook after putting up day one. (Thanks for reading by the way!) The general consensus seems to be that people get tired of being tired. Being overweight certainly is not an invigorating experience and after trying my hand at any physical activity these days I am exhausted and disappointed in my performance. Those results make absolute sense when you consider I'm literally carrying the weight of another person.

I do not like dividing my life's timeline into Pre-Fat and Fat eras. I'm too young for my glory days to be in the past. We all are. So what to do?

About ten years ago I noticed a phenomenon occurring within my little brothers' group of friends. I largely avoided this group because my brothers and I didn't get along and therefore I didn't get along with their friends, but what I noticed during this time has made a lasting impression on my life. As guys do they would tell each other something " I did xy and z", or "She said that...." and inevitably everyone in the group would call bull. The person telling the story would then begin to attempt to convince the others of the truth, "No man, I PROMISE that I did xy and z", or "Dude, I SWEAR she said that!!!!". No dice, the others would still largely be in disbelief. Three words would change that. "I scout it." This combined with the scout hand sign of right hand up to the square with the index, middle and ring fingers pointed up while the pinkie and the thumb curled to the center of the palm, locked in the promise. The entire groups demeanor changed and the teller was then totally believed.
To them Boy Scouts was largely a joke, but the oath of "Scouting It" was deadly serious. I have been thinking about that ever since and have come up with it's practical application in my life. The official Boy Scout Oath begins with "On My Honor..." and then lists a series of promises. Scouting it is the most severe non religious promise one can make to me because it involves my honor and keeping it intact. What better way to commit to losing weight?
So today I am Scouting It.
I will not drink any more soda or energy drinks.
I will not eat over 1800 calories in a day.
I will not go back for seconds.
I will not eat fast food.
I will work out 2-3 times a week for at least an hour per session.
I will lose this weight.
On My Honor, I Scout It.

I wish this entry was more humorous. They will be in the future, but when making decisions like this we must be deadly serious. Feel free to comment, or post what you Scout It to do.

Day One: I eat because I'm Fat, and I'm Fat because I eat.

Dear whoever is reading this. This blog is an effort to document the thoughts/feelings/trials/temptations of a fat guy (Travis Treanor) on his road back to skinnyhood. This blog will be humorous so if you don't like humor you may want to reconsider reading this.




Right now I'm sitting at about 280-ish pounds. This would not be a problem if I was a 6'8" defensive end in the NFL. For those of you who don't know me (how are you reading this?) I am 6' tall and avidly watch the NFL. Now the problem with being this variety of physical specimen are many, however I am not going to write about the health aspects of things, I am going to write about my thoughts and experiences in trying to get skinny. That being said: being overweight is not good for your health.




This morning I woke up with the vision of doughnuts dancing about in my head. Few things in this world are as dangerous as a fat person who wants a doughnut when there are none to be had.Luckily for us neither my twin children nor my wife are even remotely doughnut-esque and so they were and are safe. The only things that looked like donuts were the multi grain cheerios in my cabinet. I like honey nut cheerios because I don't have to add sugar to them, but my wife buys the multi grain variety because they are healthier.




Mary Poppins once said that "A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down!" In my studies I have found that multi grain cheerios require roughly 3 to 4 spoonfuls (depending on your taste and the time of day). Even with the requisite sugar infusion cheerios are a disappointing breakfast venture for a person like myself. I'm more of a sausage-egg-and-cheese mcgriddle type. Hash browns? Yes please!





I got to work to find that a brand new KFC has opened up next to my office, which would usually be an exciting event for me. It is instead a special form of torture that I get to go through, as my wife game me the 'No fast food' talk yesterday with accompanying stink eye. Today will be rough.