"But I like the stairs....THEY'RE FUN!"

Operation: NFG is here.

I've been thinking about it for a couple days now, and the one thing I've been able to rest my laurels on is my stomach, along with cookie crumbs, beer cans, issues of "Fat and Happy Weekly" and for some reason a jar of pickles. It's been a weird season thus far, one that's seen a progressively warmer winter descend upon the Pine Tree State, a long-planned mission culminating in an extremely romantic engagement in the middle of San Francisco (if I do say so myself), and the slow decay of my personal health.

Now, on this last front, I am extremely dissatisfied with myself. In the weeks leading up to our West Coast excursion, I made a concerted effort to shed as many extra lb's as I could by using our trusty old Wii Fit. Wii and I got extremely close during that period, especially as the scale groaned less and less every successive day that I weighed myself. It was a simpler time.

But then about two weeks before we left, I stopped. I'm not really sure why. I guess I could claim an unforgiving schedule at work, and anybody who knows how shorthanded we are right now would probably not fault me in the least for all the extra hours I've been working. I could also claim that the technical and financial aspects of planning our engagement in SF could quite possibly put a strain on an otherwise care-free personal constitution. I could also claim an abject penchant for docile mornings spent reading, playing Warcraft, watching movies and generally being a sedentary little boy.

If I'm being completely honest with everybody here, it's all or none of these. I've exercised in my life during more strenuous times than the ones I've experienced this year, and these weren't even particularly stressful. And given the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to propose marriage, you would think that would be a catalyst to some sort of life-altering weight change. But something extremely disturbing happened in that time period: I got comfortable.

And that scares the shit out of me. When I was younger and first struggling with my weight, I always thought that the intricacies and realizations of time would straighten me out and make me skinny. It was just inevitable: I was not destined to grow up and be a big guy! I just wasn't.

At some point, I would leave the baby fat behind. However, these days it's more like baby, my behind is fat.

So now, I'm not just fighting a slowly-detoriating self-image and an increasingly weakening body. I'm fighting the lack of will and discipline that brought me here in the first place. On the surface, my goal is to not be the fat guy I am at this moment, but rather to be the fit, healthy, in-shape groom who will say "I do" to my fiance in a couple years. Underneath it all, however, I'm fighting a deeper problem, a problem that has finally come to a head and has forced me to make the decision of my life: do I choose a healthy, sensible lifestyle, or a slew of health problems down the road that could have been avoided had I chosen to care even a smidge more than I have before? Can I theoretically make the decision to care about how I live my life?; to no longer thumb my nose at common sense and science, both of which say that I need to disrupt the course of my life immediately before I get any older?; to make a conscious effort to, in essence, save my life before any more time passes and it becomes nearly physically impossible to do so? Over the months that will follow, I guess we'll all find out together.

So for the next couple years, I will be documenting - on this blog - my deeply personal odyssey into a perpetual state of discipline and fitness, while trying to contract a severe case of Skinny Guy Syndrome. It can't wait any longer. It starts tonight.

STARTING WEIGHT - MIDNIGHT, APRIL 12, 2010: 301.8 LBS

Operation: No Fat Groom is a go.

(P.S. How do I feel at this exact moment? On a scale of Olga Sherer to Gilbert Grape's mom (Google both), I'd say I'm about a John Goodman: feeling big, trying to make up for it with personality, and wearing tons of plaid.)