The weekend! Nothing in life feels better than a day off that you've truly earned. Not just from work, but from working out. The only running I did on Saturday was when my Level 37 Rogue ran from Theramore to Stormwind City to capture the Reagents for a Murlock Stew while also trying to slay 14 shaman priests to complete a request from the Elven King and - I'm peeing myself.
Anyway, my workout is structured so that I have one day off a week. Since for right now I only have one day off every week from work anyway, let's pile on the lethargy and call Saturday off-limits to any sort of physical activity, be it exercising, stretching, shaving, brushing my teeth, showering, getting dressed, what-have-you. And let's be honest: if I had no job right now, that's exactly what I would do all day long. I would just be an unkempt, scraggly, half-dressed, overweight nerd living in an apartment I can't afford playing World of Warcraft from sunrise to sunset. In other words, I am the target demographic.
But Saturday would offer yet another test: it is the first scheduled meal I will be eating in a restaurant on my new workout. Holls' dad turned 50, and the whole family - me included - was headed out to dinner in South Portland. And Restuarant Food, while usually delicious, offers a whole new temptation: that of the "What the Hell? I Hardly Ever Go Out to Dinner!" trap. It's the feeling that I always have when I go out: This, for some reason, will be the last time I ever eat in a restaurant, so I must DEVOUR.
It was not to be so this rainy and cold Saturday night. We patronized David's 388 on Cottage Rd., where I ordered the only vegetarian appetizer and main course they offered: tomato caprese followed by mushroom ravioli.
And yes, you read that right. Vegetarian. That's the other little hidden gem of this new fitness plan: for the first two weeks of the initial ten, I'm on a water-and-vegetarian diet. It's actually not been too hard, thanks to Holls and her Amazing Technicolor Culinary Skills. I just figured I have to shock this body into some sort of change, and if I can reach the point where I cannot physically manipulate my belly button to say the words "YES WE CAN" anymore, then it will all have been worth it.
Desert was another story. Holls made her dad homemade brownies, which in my fragile state is essentially the same as dangling a $20 bill in front of a recovering addict and saying, "Now don't spend it all in one place." Can I honestly sit there and watch other people eat brownies and not partake? I made a deal: I'd have one. That's it. And I stuck to it. Although the allure of the brownie crumbs that litter the empty parts of the tray are almost too much to overcome. In addition to the brownie, I had one of those chocolate and mocha sticks you put in coffee, as well as a few spoonfuls of Edy's Ice Cream. It wasn't a test this time; I just deserved the desert. How do you like that logic?
As for Sunday, I've designated it as a light cardio day. Just some simple running. I'm in, I'm out, no worries. But there has been one weak spot of my workout thus far, and it is the final mile of cardio I run after each workout. It started out optimistically as 2 miles of jogging. But after I almost passed out on Monday, there was no way in hell I was doing two miles. So I did one mile walking. And in the subsequent days, the one mile walking turned into a walk-run-walk on the treadmill. It was the only thing I truly wanted to improve from the initial week. I determined that on Sunday, I was going to do the full two miles. Listen to some tunes, watch the Sox, and crank out those two.
And as I started running, some good songs came on, so I upped the speed a little bit.
And then Jon Lester struck out the side in the first inning (the only good thing that would happen all game), so I upped the speed a little bit.
And I started thinking about the wedding, and how debonair - and more importantly, not fat - I was going to look in a tuxedo, so I upped the speed a little bit.
So by the end of the two miles, I was in a dead run on the treadmill. The best part? My side just barely hurt, which means that I could have gone harder. Oh well, I got my run in, and when I took a shower, I remembered the change of underwear, so the day turned out to be pretty good.
But now it's the end of the day, and it's time to weigh myself. The first week has been building toward this moment, when I see if all my hard work made any dent in my physical fitness. Holls tried to calm me down a little bit by telling me that even if there wasn't a significant change, that was because muscle is heavy, and by gum, I'm starting to get some of those now. But if there is a big dent, that means that all this weight was just hanging around like Matthew Fox, waiting to get lost.
So how'd I do?
WEIGHT AFTER ONE WEEK - MIDNIGHT, MONDAY, APRIL 19, 2010: 291.9 LBS. (-9.9 LBS.)
In your face, brownie! When I stepped on Wii, I suspected my old friend might have a bit of good news for me. I didn't realize how good, apparently, as I kept talking myself down leading up to the weigh-in. But sure enough, there it was: I lost 10 goddamn pounds. And I weighed myself at midnight. Unbelievable.
(And yes, I know you're not supposed to weigh in at the end of the day. Better to do it on an empty stomach, so you feel better, etc. As I can see it, that's just cheating myself, as I usually spend most of the day with a little food in my system, and I might as well get a true reflection of how much weight I've actually lost. I don't want to feel great and say, "Look how much weight I've lost! I can now eat this burrito!" and then gain every ounce of it back.)
So now, I move onto Week 2. What new adventures shall await me? I'm guessing something involving sweat, metal, groaning, and peak physical exertion...but you'll just have to wait and see what exactly I'm talking about. 'Til tomorrow!
WORKOUT SONG OF THE WEEK
How do I feel at this exact moment? On a scale of Olga Sherer to Gilbert Grape's mom, I'm hovering around a Star Jones: still pretty hefty, but an engagement does wonders for the body!; also feuding with Barbara Walters
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