When we last left Adam it was 2003 and he was some 70 lbs overweight…
A year later following the Thanksgiving holiday I sat in front of the television one night feeling somewhat guilty over enjoying documentary filmmaker Gordon Spurlock empirically research and later reluctantly transcend into a bloated depressed grease-logged lab rat after eating McDonald’s for breakfast, lunch, and dinner during the course of one month for his directorial debut “Super Size Me.” (I also felt just slightly ill at ease with the film’s seemingly empathetic stance towards Spurlock’s muse: two morbidly obese teenage girls in New York who attempted to bring a class action lawsuit against the McDonald’s corporation for their appearance).
Still, “Super Size Me” at least affected my cognition: what if I gave up the trifecta of fast food? While perhaps a tad rash it certainly couldn’t hurt. I couldn’t afford to move out of my folks’ place so I really couldn’t control what’s served at the dinner table or what’s stocked in the refrigerator because I wasn’t contributing to the grocery bill but I could control what I ate outside of the home.
And with that I haven’t consumed a single menu item from McDonald’s, Hardees, or Burger King beginning that night in late 2004.
A few months later – it’s officially 2005 now – pleased with my complete resilience to the burger chains I decided to take my recent dietary adjustment one step further: I would identify the three worst common household foods and simply make them go the way of my recent absconding of double quarter pounders with cheese, monster burgers, and whoppers (I use the word abscond because I wasn’t yet advertising my decision to shun certain establishments and the benefits were barely noticeable since I hardly lived at any of these places to begin with).
I punched “10 worst food/drink” into Google and printed off the top 10 results and then picked the three items that were on every list. I’m not at all surprised now that each one of these items ranked at the top of every list.
After that day in February of 2005 I haven’t eaten a single doughnut, only recently sampled high end Holland-style French fries at a nice Chicago restaurant, and only once accidentally downed a Sprite when someone passed me a mixed drink. In other words: I don’t eat doughnuts or French fries or drink soda pop of ANY kind.
I think you know why I put such an emphasis on “any” because so many people of all shapes and sizes trick themselves into believing diet soda is somehow the healthier option. In fact, it was soda that made the top of all 10 lists and each list emphasized how all-around awful soda is for you REGARDLESS. Look at it this way: There are 42 grams of fat in a McDonald’s double quarter pounder with cheese. There are 107 grams of fat in a Hardees monster burger. There are 65 grams of fat in a Burger King double whopper with cheese. So, should you make it a point to always reach for the double quarter pounder (“double royale with cheese” if you’re in Europe according to Vincent Vega) because it technically healthier or should you maybe select D: Don’t eat any of them!
Fast forward a year and some change and my department at work decided to have a “Biggest Loser” competition (sans the opprobrium of being overweight, topless, and in spandex): $5 gets you into the pool – weigh in each week for a month – you pay a dollar for every pound you gain. Eight of us (including myself) entered and so really on a lark my journey began.
I had every intention of taking this seriously (I needed the money for one thing because I had just landed an apartment) and did and after witnessing what everyone else ordered out that day for lunch I decided this was going to be easier than I thought.
Then I told my buddy Blaine I was in a weight loss competition. Blaine is a childhood friend who I remained in close contact with when I lived at home after college (speaking of which I need to call him). He also holds a degree in physical fitness from Western Illinois University and was picking up clients here and there and training them out of his home. Blaine is a naturally driven albeit very competitive individual and once he found out there was competition involved he offered to train me 2-3 nights a week at his home for free and I gladly accepted.
After the first night of a one hour boot camp, however, I thought I was going to die having never been fit in my entire life. I left Blaine’s garage with all the required motor skills needed to drive home locked in pain and immediately laid down on my bed and attempted not to throw-up by trying to remain completely quiescent until the room stopped spinning before falling asleep.
Still, I returned two nights later and each session became slightly more bearable than the last. What’s more my peers at work began to take notice after a couple of weeks and for a kid who suffered from no self-esteem growing up – it was nice to constantly be recognized (for once) as someone who was in the process of accomplishing a goal.
To be continued…
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