Going On A Diet

I don’t recall ever going on a diet in my life (fasting doesn’t count). Throughout high school I was 5’9 and 140lbs. My buddies Dom and Bryan constantly made fun of me because of my weight, or lack thereof. Dom had completely grown into his body by his senior year and Bryan had completely grown into his body at about 6th grade (although his head continues to grow at an alarming rate). They were convinced I had worms or something because I would eat more than both of them combined and wouldn’t gain any weight. I just told them Thai people don’t gain weight.

After high school, Dom finally convinced me to start taking weight lifting and working out seriously. I did just that and started gaining weight rather quickly. It wasn’t only weight but muscle weight. I felt great. I was stronger, faster, and had more energy throughout the day. It was like my mutant gene activated, and I had all these newfound powers. I’ve been committed to working out ever since.

However, being committed to working out consistently is only half the battle. A healthy diet and proper rest is the other half. Since I’m one of the laziest persons I know, resting isn’t a problem. Healthy diet, however, is another thing entirely. My whole life I’ve never had to worry about what to eat. I just ate what I wanted. Food content was irrelevant. Taste, flavor, and some type of dipping sauce were all that mattered. Now that I’m older that doesn’t quite work so well. The other day I got on the scale at the gym and my initial thought was “Oh ****! How did THAT happen?” I thought Thai people didn’t gain any weight? As it turns out, Thai people don’t gain weight while in Thailand. But in America, the land of Cheesecake Factory and carne asada burritos, they gain weight just like everyone else.

My wife has done a good job taking care of me by making sure I have a healthy breakfast and a home-cooked dinner everyday. Lunch is the problem. If men are honest, we’ll admit we don’t like making our own food. I only learned how to cook to impress ladies and when I did cook for myself it felt like a survival show. So when my wife is away and tells me where the food is and that I could make it myself I kindly say, “Ok, thanks honey.” Then quickly drive off to In-N-Out. Contrary to the popular social trend of wanting to live a long and healthy life, I really don’t want to live THAT long. I mean, when I get to the point where I can’t play basketball or need assistance in doing daily things (e.g, going to the bathroom, dressing, etc.) what’s the point really? (This is NOT a reflection of how I view the elderly it’s just how I feel about myself). In addition, I have Life Insurance so if I kick the bucket for whatever reason my family cashes out. So what’s the point in being cautious? My wife seems to want me around for some reason so I probably should make some effort in staying around, especially with a baby on the way. In light of that, my recent scale debacle has me rethinking my eating habits. Maybe I should scale back the carne asada burritos.

The last couple of days my wife has packed a PPJ sandwich, trail mix, an apple and some string cheese. You know, things I would only eat if I were on Man vs. Wild. It’s only been two days but it’s been unbelievably boring. I also don't have any energy because of the lack of calories. I’ve been scrounging for my co-workers candy stash just for some sugar. “I know you have them!!! You can’t hide them from me!!!” Anyway, I’m trying to be positive about this. Losing some weight will only improve my quickness on the basketball court. Also, I’ll probably look even sexier than I already do. Outside of those two reasons I don’t see any other positives but it’s a start.