155: day eight - ten

155: day eight - ten

november 26 - 28

pep talk of the day

hold your own hands once in awhile.

On November 27th, I called my doctor to cancel an appointment for the 28th. Ironically, I wasn’t feeling well, prompting the cancellation

“Lindsay, you haven’t seen us for a long time now?” His receptionist asked over the phone.

“Yeah, it’s been at least three years.”

Inquisitively with a touch of concern in her voice, “Have you been seeing someone else? Another doctor?”

“No… no. Nothing much on the health front has come up.” I lied. I did have a touch of permanent-lung-damaging pneumonia. And, a persistent arm rash that needed ointment… expensive goop to clear it up.

On the second visit for the rash that I made to the doctor (Dr. Mitchell) who I was two-timing my real doctor with, I pressed him for answers, “Doctor, this rash it won’t go away. Is it anything to worry about? I’m starting to think I may have leprosy.”

“No… it’s nothing. The cream I’m prescribing should clear it up in no time.” Now smiling. “And yes, you do have leprosy. I just didn’t know how to tell you… I guess, I just did.” What a fun doc!

“No! Dr. Musial will always be my doctor.” Calming the receptionists concerns. He knows my whole story, therefore, I’m not going anywhere. Am I dating him? He’s a great guy, and I do kind of miss him in a doctor/patient sort of way. He did buy me flowers and chocolates once, presented to me after a prostate exam.

“What’s this, oh my, you shouldn’t have.” Blushing profusely. He hadn’t. Another lie.

It was time to come clean. “I did go to the clinic down the street from my house a couple of times. But it was nothing. Really. No connection. It was after office hours. No wining. No dining. No kissing. It was just what it was. I promise I’ll never go again. I made a mistake.” Everything after, times, embellished.

Appointment rescheduled for next week… it was time to move forward with 155. Discouragingly, this has been a tough week. I’m crashing. Feeling beaten down. The challenge is going swimmingly, it couldn’t be going better, and for the most part my healthy eating has refreshed my taste buds, bringing them back to functioning. And God, my tummy, primarily the bellybutton, a second one is starting to materialize --- a sign of the beginning of svelte.

Why so glum?

Here comes the dark clouds of…

Because I’m scared. Because I’m scarred. I’m pretending to be okay… I’m not. I’ve been trying to implement my own advice for quite some time now by saying, “I’m doing well,” I’m not. I feel like I’m on the verge of collapse. I’m feeling as if my time is running out and is about to expire.

I fucking hate our world. I hate evolution… I mean the lack of any identifiable evolution. I can’t see it? Can you?

I spin positive… all the time, like pretending to be okay, I think I might be lying, to me. How tragic?

What deposited me here? Where has the hope gone? How do I get out?

I don’t know ---- I think what scares me the most is if I was to die NOW, nobody would notice. I know that’s not true. And I know I’ve impacted others in a positive way, for the most part, I think. It’s also not fair to lay these festering, languishing, and destructive thoughts on those who’ve had my back for all of this time. I need to fool them the most to make sure they continue to be smothered in the belief that my ship will come in. I do it. I think. I’m not so certain I believe my grift anymore. As for positive, what a load of…

“You sure suck at pep talks.”

“Who asked you?”

I don’t know why I’m having so much trouble getting past no longer having a family?

What a ridiculous question… I almost had a dad again, and I do have brunkles and sis-aunts, and a dying-living mother… they just don’t want anything to do with me. Harmony has been lopped away from that portion of life and now I’m trying accept a family not sharing blood. I’m lucky, my friends are beautiful of heart.

My near dad, wanted the role, he represented a new beginning after many years of confusion. He wanted the role! One simple test freed him of that responsibility and left me standing alone. Here comes the holiday season. I’m not sure if I’ll survive it. Of course I will. Another lie? Another con job?

I’m pissed at myself. Two days off a week from fitness for rest. Blue has turned that into four and counting. Tomorrow I’ll pick it up again. I can’t stay down. I can’t stay down.

Back to my doctor, next week. Physically, I’m fine. I think. I’ve booked the appointment to update him on my life. He’s good. He understands. He thinks I’m incredibly intelligent, almost a… I’ve tricked him. I’m good at tinting reality. That’s why I rescheduled, don’t want to show weakness, want to be strong so I can sell him on me. I want to be fucking good enough for the first time in my life. Can’t let him see that I’m doing a job that I hate and if something doesn’t come from my passion in creating soon, I’ll have to pretend again and add a second unfulfilling job. What a fucking mess. I’m forty-seven. I know I look much younger. I thank alcohol and sleep deprivation for that. I’ve even grifted age. I’m sure one day that play will unravel.

“Hello mirror. Oh my God… I look one-hundred.” Die now please.

“Quit feeling sorry for yourself.”

You’re right. It’s not a good course. I try not to, if you’ve read me right, you know that I avoid doing so. And, if you know me personally, there’s no question, positive, at least on the surface, reins supreme. However, it’s as each corner I turn I walk into a gossamer floating delicately in the air, the only problem as faint as the web is, I can’t break through it. I’m stuck. I seem to have been trapped for the last four years. I want my family… at least I want to belong. I don’t, and I never will.

I wanted my father to be alive again. It built for over three years. Not a day went by without me thinking, what if? We bonded. There was a certainty to it. A new corner was coming and the air was about to clear. There was uncertainty in the new route ---but excitement and new was to color the consistency of the unknown in bright uplifting shades.

I remember one day this past summer, my dad, during an effortless phone conversation, reaching through the lines and caressing my heart. He wanted to accept his role, pick me up, and begin our relationship. I never new I was down --- at least not until found out the truth. Anyway, after sharing our tales of life, and apologizing for his absence, it wasn’t his fault, in an attempt to ease my… he said, “Lindsay, what I want you to do from time-to-time, hold your own hands. I’m so sorry for whatever the lies have done to you. I want your pain to end. You’re a great man. Positive. Strong. I can’t imagine what this process is like for you. It can’t be easy.” My dad was… being a dad. A first. “Sit. Hold your own hands. Cause, if you’re holding your own hands, it’s impossible to lie to yourself. Lindsay, you’re a great man. I’m honored to be your father.” I didn’t know what the process was doing to him?

As you know, we met, he’s not my dad. Christmas is coming. My mother is dying. And, I don’t want my friends to carry my burden. I want to be strong and positive. I don’t want to cry. I want a home filled with love. But, and this may be selfish, I don’t know if I can be around another family that shows it.

In the perfect world, my new non-dad and I would stay in touch, forge a relationship… it’s a wonderful thought. Nothings perfect. He lives in another city, he’s got his own children, he’s seventy-two, and he’s not my dad. Our relationship was nothing more than a desperate fantasy which will quickly fade away. It’s just the way it is.

My friend Stevie and I went for lunch recently. Stevie and I are polar opposites. It doesn’t matter. We’ve bonded and share a genuine love. I shared my story, I was in an up mood. I tried to find comedy in the pain. “Stevie, for most of my life I was a mix of Romanian/ Scottish. For a bit when my parents came back to life, I wasn’t sure of my heritage. When dad was found, I became British/Romanian. Now, since dad, isn’t dad, I don’t know what or who I am? Maybe I‘m Jamaican?”

“Lindsay. You’re just, Lindsay. That’s more than good enough.”

I’m going to my doctor next week. When I’m feeling better. I want him to know the new chapters of my story.

He shares my past with his colleagues and he’s in awe with what’s transpired thus far --- along with my ability to process it. Another grift on my part. He’ll make me laugh. He’ll shake his head in understanding disbelief. And he’ll tell me I’m doing great. I’m not. I just pretend.

At least my visit will show him that I’m going to stay. I want him to be my Doctor.

I’m going to hold my hand for a bit tonight and spin positive thoughts. I must. I’m no good to anyone if I’m feeling sorry for myself. Tomorrow, down will blast to an end, at least for this bout of it, and tomorrow… I’ll smile again. I hope!

Out dark thoughts. Out dark thoughts. Out depressive bouts. Out…

I will allow love, happiness, health and prosperity into my life. I deserve it!

Hollywood’s gotten one thing right: Happy Endings!

progress report

“Wow. Your pep talks, suck.”

Well, life isn’t always easy, and my new realities, which happen to mirror my past realities, are fresh. Time hasn’t eased the surge of hurt, yet. One day it will!

As for fitness/health progress: I lost a couple of days of training due to my mental state and the corresponding dysfunction. That’s okay, if obsession had taken over my training, I’d try to make it all up in the next couple of days. I won’t. I’ve got a lot more life left, and it’s okay to spread near-perfection over the rest of it. Guffaw!

“You’re talking about your progress, aren’t you?”

“Oh yeah. This week I’m only weighing myself once, Saturday. My goal is still to shave off 8 lbs and drop to 164 lbs --- which may be a stretch now. My calorie intake has been decent. A bit over my mental goal of 1500 per day, yet, still far below the 2500 allowable. If I was a betting man: I bet I’ll only drop below 170. I’m not.

I’ve got three days left to work out and cut calories… I’m gonna make it. You’ll see. Tomorrow I’m only going to eat air. If a burger or some tuna or anything else happens to be levitating in the air I eat, so be it. I’ll keep you posted.

Last thing: I’m only weighing myself once this week as a means of suppressing obsession, and damn it!.. A couple of blind days is fun and helps me to hone my awareness skills.

And quit your kvetching* about my pep talks, it’s called life. If you have any life issues you’d like some direction with visit http://www.askseed.blogspot.com/ where you may find some answers!

fitness fact/tip

Muscle burns fat!

Now that you have a bit of a handle on the consumption of food, understand that spot reduction doesn’t exist, personal goals are just that: personal, and that there is a fine line between obsession and a healthy lifestyle, which includes fitness. It’s now time to kick start your metabolism.

Sit back and grab a nice glass of antioxidant rich red wine. Maybe some almonds. Good. If you recall from one of the beginning posts, 1-fat gram = 9 calories; 1-protein gram = 4 grams.

What does this mean to you?

“Look at that blubber fly.”

Since you’ve started to consume much healthier foods, and have an awareness of allowable consumption, and you’re working out like a crazy non-obsessed dog (wo)man, by this time your baby fat will be beginning to melt away. That is if you’re holding your own hands, and if you’ve included resistance training as part of your program.

Muscle weighs more than fat!

Muscle is much more efficient than fat!

More efficient translates to burning more calories all of the time, 24/7. Fat just hangs, that is it’s only responsibility. Droop, droop, drooping, clogging, esteem wrenching, death-defying fat. Carrying excess speeds up your heart, brings lethargy to your door pants and together they slow the embers of burn.

Muscle does the exact opposite, and a more efficient body helps you to get through the day enjoying whatever life brings your way, without the added panting of fatness.

Sure, cardio training is great, however, if you want to seriously change your body, a combination of resistance and cardio training is required. You probably know people who jog/swim every day, and although they dump pounds, they still carry around a helping of extra-loose girth, the dreaded last few pounds. Resistance training is needed to tighten the girth and it is a vital part of any health and fitness program.

“You mean if I work-out with weights my forks will lose their racing stripes?”

Well…

More on the benefits of weight training in a future chapter. Including: muscle vs. tone.

Bonus morsel:

I caught an episode of the “Biggest Loser” the other night. Oh my God! And I’m Spiritual, not religious. First off, I’m not so sure I like what the name implies, perhaps a more positive title would be a better option. But if it helps these folks change their lives and they are not left to their own accord afterward, brilliant. If they are just ratings guinea pigs… I guess at least they’ve had a great opportunity to learn.

Anyway, some off the contestants are coming close to losing a me. Translation: losing my current body weight. Mind boggling! Look at others and imagine if they were carrying another you --- only to lose it in three months, how the bleep could anyone let themselves get so obese?

Unbelievable. I wish them the best for the future. In all honesty, most of the contestants should’ve dropped dead long ago. Really, unbelievable, a whole me!

consumed

day eight:

• B’fast: ½ glass mango smoothie. 90
• 500 ml. Chocolate milk. 320
• 30 g. Peanuts. 180
• Lunch: Toasted chicken sandy. 350
• Juice Blueberry & Pomegranate (glass). 120
• Dinner: pork chops 340 g. (223 c 100 g.) 670
• Corn. 80
• Rice (classics) 1.5 servings. 180
• G total for the day. 1990
  

day nine:

• B’fast: ½ Arthur‘s green smoothie . 130
• Lipton green tea iced tea. 120
• Blueberry muffin. 135
• Lunch: Fat burger grilled chicken/cheese. 470
• 2 Iced tea. 300
• 30 gms. Peanuts 180
• Dinner: pork chops. 300
• Corn. 80
• Rice (classics) 1.5 servings. 180
• Juice Blueberry & Pomegranate (glass). 120
  G total for the day. 2015
  

day ten:

• B’fast: Tasty green goodness smoothie. 150
• Chocolate milk 170
• Blueberry muffin. 135
• Lunch: three poached eggs 380
• 2 Iced tea. 300
• 60 gms. Peanuts 360
• Dinner: chicken 200 gms. 350
• Iced tea. 150
• Peas. 80
• Rice (classics) 1.5 servings. 180
• Juice Blueberry & Pomegranate (glass). 120
• G total for the day. 2375 piggy - piggy.
  

book update

Nothing new, except I’ve cranked out a couple of articles to: The Washington Post and The Christian Science Monitor.

love is in the air

Just a question for the day: How many sexual encounters does someone need to have before they start losing their soul?

Check the right hand side of the Blog for a place to vote.

financial forecast

I’m a bit scared. I need some (see book update/freelance writing) results or I may need to subsidize my income by working at a Drive-thru. Argh… or perhaps, milking cats. Or performing… in front of busloads of Japanese tourists.

randomness

I phoned my great friend, Danielle, on the day that I was meeting my father for the first time. “Danielle, this his so incredibly emotional. I’m meeting my father today. I hate my life at times. It’s so tiring when people ask what’s new? I sometimes want to lie. I don’t want everything to be about me. You know me… I want boring. I’m meeting my seventy-two year old father today. Can you believe it? Why does it have to be about me?” And then I paused to breathe.

“Lindsay, we just go to the store.”

I don’t want my life to be boring. Although extreme, I haven’t scripted most of the plot. I don’t think any of us truly do. Destiny vs. choice?

I lean toward destiny, at least when family is involved in the picture.

My heartache in the pep talk is just the way it is supposed to be, all I did was be born. And of course events like meeting dad, was going to impact me significantly. When I said the lack of evolution scares me, i meant:

Life can be mother trucking difficult to understand, it’s meant to be, and if it isn’t now for you, it likely will be later. Sorry to tell you that. If not… you’re lucky, or perhaps, not living.

I share mine with others, because certain aspects of it don’t belong to me and are much bigger than my issues. Lots of people… and I believe lots have to deal with heartache, maybe not as bizarre as mine, everyday. And, it is important to talk and work your way through it. In my case, type. Where the lack of evolution comes in, mankind seems to have developed a harsh demeanor, ADD., and the acceptance of crap has left a lot of people scathed, and instead of trying to understand somebody else’s pain, “Hey, what’s on television?”

I’ll be okay… I have no choice. It’s important. I’ve got a mission to complete. Others need to laugh. The toughest part of my journey: have you ever wanted something so bad that you could taste it, it tastes sweet, and when it came out to be true, life instantly changes direction with an amazing ride about to unfold before you. My ride stopped. It never started. Not entirely true, three years of preparing for it did occur, unfortunately, it ended with the opening of a letter. Three years and BOOM GOES THE DYNAMITE! It’s all over.

Emptiness.

And in that instant, by remaining unchanged, my life has changed more than I can even imagine. Talking about it is the only way for me to find meaning, in the process, I hope it lets others know that they’re not alone. At the very least, I hope the odd twist of bizarreness, brightens someone’s day!

*Kvetching was used because it is about time we all realized we all bleed the same. We for the most part have the same needs: love, family, love, hugs, love, family, eating, living, etcetera, and with the holidays upon us, let’s dump the political correctness regarding “Merry Christmas.”

Translation: Special interest groups… drop the fucking act. Most people are okay with others just being happy!

Be kind to others because pain may be hiding behind their eyes.

155: day six/seven

155: day six/seven

november 24/25

pep talk of the day

chicken or the egg?

Action comes before motivation!

I will allow success and love into my life… I deserve it!

Without a first move there can be no success. Most of us at times struggle with motivation and we’re draped with the heavy cloak of procrastination. We get caught spinning tomorrows in our vocabulary endlessly until tomorrow never comes. The weight of life’s cloak may become too heavy to carry, and what’s most important: the most difficult things to tackle, get buried.

We’ve all been there, whether it’s dropping a few pounds, making a difficult phone call; hey Mr. Bill Collector, two things; I’ve overspent and can’t afford to pay you back, and; aren’t you responsible for overextending my finances with your slick promotions and your need to up your quarterly profits? Anyway, can I pay you next..? Or punting* a broken relationship to the curb. I’m not happy. It’s not that Marge/Stan is a bad person, she/he’s not. And, I really love her/him. However, I can’t stand the way that…

Three years later and you’re still fat, miserable and broke: It’s not that Marge/Stan is a bad person. And… tomorrow I’m gonna hit the gym and dump my flab. You know, it’s hard to change, I’m comfortable. Sounds like justifications. Have you forgotten, miserable? Passionless? Stagnant? Living a marginal and unmotivated existence?

In my opinion: we’re behaving the way we’ve been conditioned. We’ve become pawns to many factors: family, school, corporations, the media, and tradition. We often do what we’re told without questioning the goals of those who are moving us around in the game of life. Until one day… we’re trapped, and comfortable becomes the easy way out. We still want more, but… tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow ---talking a big game with every breath we take.

That’s where action and motivation come in. We can have whatever we want from life! IF! If we break free of our conditioning. If we set our own definitions. If we take the good from the game while at the same time learning quick lessons from the bad --swiftly filing the bad out-of-site. And, most importantly, if we realize action always comes before motivation.

Whatever challenge/crisis we need to overcome, no matter how often we say, I’ve got to get motivated, progress will be absent from the formula until you take the first step, pick up the phone, or lift the first weight. The beautiful thing: once you do, with consistent effort the weight of the cloak begins to lift, life becomes easier, and marginal will no longer be part of life!

I may be a slow learner as that may be a simple lesson… I’m no longer a kid, apparently, when I was, I was a foundling. Perhaps that slowed my learning process. Regardless of the semantics I’m finally starting to move, hopefully in the right direction, which is part of the reason I share my progress with others. It’s a great way for me to keep moving and with each step I’m climbing out from the confusion of family and striving toward exceptional! It’s not easy, but I’m tired of talking a big game.

Sharing my health goals with you, if, You, are the one, You, who takes the time to read this, represents part of the movement. Not only does it help me to focus toward health goals, by bringing awareness to my life, but it also keeps me focused on writing, and the pursuit of something I’m passionate about. Including Seed’s & Euro Seed’s Brain Candy. We want to bring you an original, entertaining and enlightening Blog, where we share experiences… in a hopes to offer something relevant! Maybe even encouraging you to start moving and reaching for what you want most from life!

I wrestled with sharing another personal tidbit with you. I’ve decided that as part of my health goals, I’ve consumed my last drop of booze until after the completion of this challenge. What prompted prohibition?

Nothing really. It wasn’t a binge, a hang-over, discovering a tattoo on my ass, who the hell is Shaniqua?.. or anything else. I may fail miserably as the holiday season is bursting upon us. It’s just because I want to, and these updates help to keep me focused on the end goal. And besides, the Holiday Season deposits me in an emotionally charged place, I’m honestly frightened by the intensity it may bring this year (read ending in this Blog), and in that spirit, I think it may be best to imbibe with caution. If I do happen to fail with this portion of my challenge, I’ll let you know. If I do fail it will only be if my spirits are soaring!

*Relationships are not to be taken lightly. Especially when kids are involved. If you’re not happy, communicate, and only as a last resort, punt.

progress report

Today I must report a horrible defeat and a fantastic victory.

10 pounds in 6 days, mark my words. Day 6 has come and I hate to type this; I only carved off 7 pounds to tip the scales at 172 lbs… what a horrible defeat. No… stop that, what an amazing victory. 17 pounds to go 24 days to get there.

If that was the defeat, what was the victory, you ask?

Healthy eating has enhanced my sense of taste. Good food is yummy. I’m starting week two soda and junk food free. It’s been surprisingly easy. I’ve dropped from a 20+ year average of approximately a liter of coke per day… to nada, not a drop. And, I don’t even drink coffee to ensure I still get my caffeine fix. I do drive the occasional crack-head to jobsites as part of work responsibility… but no caffeine. I was told when I said that caffeine was being removed, “you’re crazy” “you’ll get pounding headaches” “you’ll go through withdrawal.” To date… no side-effects, except for the victory, beer, beer tastes great, I never knew. Unfortunately as my palate becomes cleansed I’ve decided to cut beer out (see above).

Next up for weight loss goals: by Saturday December 1st, 8 more pounds are to be removed. This will bring me to a near-svelte 174 lbs. Lofty I know, but what the heck!

fitness fact/tip

Rest is an important piece of the puzzle.

Fitness often leads to obsession. Some who embark on pursuing health goals get carried away and the race for perfection takes over. Perfection doesn’t exist! Just as our mirrors and mind trick us while we’re packing on the pounds… they do the same in reverse. Once we start working out, we want results now… and if we push that desire too hard we risk becoming obsessed and one dimensional. Fitness begins to define who we are and it has a propensity of becoming nearly as hazardous as the lifestyle that brought us to a need to move in the first place. If you catch the bug… the gym, track, pool, whatever becomes a second home --- isn’t necessarily a good thing.

Why?

Do you know this person, “Yeah, I did 2 hours of cardio today. I upped my bench press by 35 lbs. My squats… I can run… climbed the mountain…” Good for you! And, could you be more boring? It’s great that health is important to you, but isn’t family, friends, work, etcetera, just as important?

As much as I’m going to sound hypocritical here: what’s the rush?

It’s good to have goals and milestones, however, unless you’re a competitive athlete, I suggest keeping them humble, cause if you don’t, you may become the person mentioned above and you may be “hot” on the outside --- mangled on the inside, though.

The endorphin rush from fitness is a powerful thing, coupled with the quest for results puts people in a precarious place where if you get too caught up in the goal, often those in pursuit forget a vitally important factor in the quest, recuperation. Letting the body cool and recover so you can move forward. I’ve at times been guilty of just that, so to ensure that I don’t fall into that trap this time around… two days off per week for recovery, and on Sundays, I’m taking a break from tracking my consumption. I’m still going to be soda and junk free, however, if I happen to eat a whole chicken --- there’ll be one less chicken for you!

Back to fitness, but I want to get bigger, fitter, trimmer, I want the results now, not tomorrow…must work out… must work out… thinner now!

Again, good for you. The problem with fitness: the above dialogue can’t possibly be for you, and when you reach your goal, what’s next?

We all can only get so big, so trim, so fast, so… fucking obsessed. In my opinion the biggest challenge with fitness, and why so many people fail: there is no end point. If we reach a goal, great, but the bar can only go so high… if you don’t agree with that statement, enjoy your steroids, stock up on whatever the newest fad supplement is, and try to blast your guns into oblivion until they explode. Again, boring everyone you come in contact with along the way.

And in the end, a new fad, a new training method, a new… and eventually you fall off the fitness kick due to injury, a shrinkage in genitalia, depression, or your obsession turns into delusion.

Sounds tragic. It’s not, if you keep it in perspective and you actually plan to live a long life. And if you pick activities that interest you, you’ll keep boredom at bay and you’ll likely always have your goals in site… you don’t need to ever get there, cause if you do, now what?

Nothing comes after perfection and if you reach it you may as well…

Bonus morsel:

First tracking free Sunday… I almost ate a whole chicken. Thanks beer!

consumed

Day six:

• B’fast: Tasty green goodness smoothie. 150
• Lunch: Mexican Chicken Wrap 400
• Snapple Iced Tea 190
• Dinner: b’bque chicken breast 400
• Spinach Grade A. 80
• 4 pints 600
• G total for the day. 1820

Day seven/sunday, never-you-mind:

Today I step off the counting bandwagon!

book update

Next post will bring you a fresh update… I took the weekend off.

love is in the air

Some offers have come my way, I’ve not sure if I’m going to answer the door.

financial forecast

December is a big month for me. I’ll keep you posted soon.

randomness

Sorry about my lack of randomness, updates, love stories, and financial outlooks, I’m feeling a bit off… down is the correct term for it. I’m not certain whether I’m okay or not. I guess the last sentence may be a clue to the answer. More on my feelings in a future update.

Anyway, if you’d like to receive updates on my progress pumped directly into your inbox, scroll down this page and at the bottom left you’ll find a place to subscribe!

Do you think a monkey would see the benefit of riding a dog?

155: day four/five

155: day four/five

november 22/23

pep talk of the day

Fuck!

I ATE TOO MUCH TODAY.

Depressed, is about to reappear. How could I over-eat? Am I weak? Don’t I see what the end goal will deliver to me?

I hope you’re enjoying the original art!

By overeating, I mean: I was cranking the daily calorie count around the 1800 mark. Today: 1900. I’m a…

…wait a minute, a brilliant success story. I’m still under the 2600+* allowable calories to maintain my glutinous, achieved weight. Therefore, I need to cut myself a bit of slack.

While we’re talking about allowable, we need to change our inner-dialogue. Life is meant to be fucking lived!.. we’re not supposed to become slaves to life! We don’t get it… we’re all self-absorbed and the only one who notices your excessive weight, you!

We think that if we fit into a societal based ‘model’, it will bring us everything we need. Please! I'll let you in on a little secret… everyone, and I mean, everyone, in the developed world, is self-absorbed. “I,” is the only thing we understand and that is what makes us all miserable.

Not too “Peppy,” yet, is it?

The point: unless you can change your perspective on your: life, body, genital size, career… etc., turning it into: I’M DOING THIS FOR MY FUTURE AND FOR MYSELF, your not doing it for the right reason. Translation: If your life or health goals are to try to manipulate, convince, sway, attract, catch, persuade, anyone else… you’re a shallow and selfish bitch/bastard. And if someone buys into your vanity, when it slips, bye - bye manipulator. How does it feel being exchanged for a newer sleeker model?

A radical suggestion for the manipulators and their pawns: A tower, shiny glass… thrusting high into the atmosphere! When you’re hot and shallow, you get to live near the top where you can constantly with a soul-sapping fervor do whatever you must to reach the penthouse. Surgeons occupy the floors just before the pinnacle so ass (not a misspelling) to nip and tuck, cut and carve until you’ve reached a near perfect shine. Then you get to die empty ---and fucking hot! A life rich in… As your skin sags and your belly bulges, you begin to fall… you can’t attain beauty no more so the fall continues: down to floor 51... filled with quick-fixes and radical diets. Doesn’t work. Floor 25: it’s looking hopeless… you can’t function as gravity keeps pulling you down when you want to soar back to youth. You can’t. Floors 10 - 5: diet, run, obsess, exercise, Botox, more exercise, 3 calories a day, energy drinks, fuck you… I’m still hot!., more exercise, a cut, a slice, a dice on floors 5 - 1 occupied by the butchers of beauty. Saved… I’m so young and beautiful again! “Hey, why’s your face so tight? Can you smile? Where’d your forehead go? Your fake boobs, huh… they droop, too. Who knew?”

“Fuck off. I’m hot.”

Sure you are. Sure you are. Snicker. Unfortunately, those who live in the shiny glass tower… unless they figure out where beauty and substance really come from, die there.

“Pep it up, Seed!”

Okay, it is time to understand that if you’re living a marginal life, usually based upon following the flawed societal norms, you’re probably living for others (see above). However, once a light goes on and you begin to realize that there is only room for one in the mirror, you’ll stop looking. Really, in the grand scheme of things… body, health, ego… is really a solo journey. A healthy ego is a good thing. An ego that is trying to manipulate, toxic.

Nobody else is noticing you! Period. They’re too busy trying to sell themselves. Don’t believe me?

Listen, six people, max, care about you. Except for those who want to change you or the ones who don’t think you are good enough. Living up to their standards!

That brings us to today’s pep talk: When you finally get that life is better shared, but not with those who keep trying to put you down, the ones who say, “if you only lost a few pounds” “made more money” “had better fashion sense” “provided me with what I need” and finally, conclude: I’m better off being healthy --- than facing morbidity, you get it! Your body is: YOURS! And, again, your inner dialogue is fundamental in your interaction with others. So: BE GOOD TO YOURSELF!. PUNT NEGATIVITY TO THE GUTTER. It does us no good.

Our Universe, and our World, are remarkable and beautiful anomalies. Too abstract to understand. We try! We fail miserably. Gods ego sees to that. Anyway, before I’m struck down for my opinion, they’re filled with brilliant, and morally decent people, and together we can take the world into the next evolution of mankind!

Really, I believe that! FUCK GLOBAL WARMING! Buying florescent light bulbs when 4-billion people live in limiting poverty, globally, and are just trying to survive… are you really buying the commercial? Ask the Dinosaurs!?!

Oh yeah… they didn’t have the media to…

…prop up our spirits… now that you get, You, is about You, and the only way that you'll be good to anyone else is if you start taking care of yourself emotionally, physically, spiritually, with a sense of community and a desire to…

…live an amazing life. And, the only way you can do that is by talking nicely to yourself. Translation: If you keep a commitment: silently pat yourself on the back. If you don’t eat crap: again, silently pat yourself on the back. If you go to the gym, share positive thoughts, hug, kiss and love others, pat… you get it by now. Keep telling yourself that you’re amazing --- then live up to it… if you buy into your magnificence… you’ll be part of the future.

Pepping it out: I just went through one of the emotionally draining experiences of my life, traumatic and tragic. I was spinning downward to destruction. But, at the same time I was trying to “roll” with my heartache. I was failing miserably, but trying to act unaffected --- to hide the scar, the hurt. One day at work, I threw out some meaningless banter, “I did a face-recognition program website… apparently I’m a 86% match for Whoopie Goldberg!” Meaningless, yes. To which I was met with: “Michael said that you are full of useless*** information.” Michael knew what I was going through. His comments cut to my heart and hurt deeply in the moment.

Really, that’s what you guys talk about when I’m, when “we’re” not around. How did that conversation start: “That’s some useless information.”


“Yeah, I know. You know who else is full of useless information?”

Thanks. Thanks for defining friendship. You do know my Dad just came back to life and he wasn’t my Dad? Yet, you still found a way to put me down.

Anyway, my challenge to you: whether at work or play, stop participating in the bullshit, try it for a week, if someone says, “so, and so, said…” walk away and say you’re not interested. Negative talk about anyone… is fucking us all up. STOP IT!

This is where the challenge gets hard… NO MATTER WHAT!

And, at the end of the day, every time you get the urge: TELL YOURSELF THAT YOU’RE AMAZING INSTEAD!

Bye the way: The only reason I embarked on this challenge --- health = life, and I want to live for a long time!

Why?

Cause you love me!

*** 95% of information is useless… it’s important to understand that fact. If you do you won’t pretend to be so damn important.

progress report

Five days in and I’ve managed to drop to: 173.3 lbs a big silent pat on the back for me.

“Ouch.”

“Not so hard if you want silence.”

I’ve carved off an incredible 5.7 lbs in just 5 days, really only 4 as the weigh-in was the real starting point. And, I did this with eating and the consumption of beer. Translation: I kept living and scrapped the fasting idea, at least to the latter stages of this personal challenge.

I have worked diligently at the gym and have stuck to a brilliantly healthy eating plan, which is easy to do by the way. If you’d like to know something about my fitness regimen… blast me an email. You’ll find my addy somewhere on this site. I believe it is in the first 155 post.

fitness fact/tip

There is no such thing as spot reduction.

Usually when one realizes that they’ve girthed up and now have a belly-waving, thunder-thigh chaffing, toe-hiding, health-evicting consumption problem, they’ve been living in denial for quite some time and the last thing they see, belly, thighs, ass, is the first place they want to reduce.

If only it was that simple. It’s not. Denial has seen to that. The way we chunk-up is a slow laborious and committable process laced in savory sauces and delectable desserts. The mirror lies. Our eyes focus up... when growth is occurring down. A pound here. A pound there. No more room in the belly… where shall I go now? Some up… starting at the waist. Very little down… drooping below the ass. I’m looking good. Jaw solid. Arms tight . Biceps bulging. A little bit around the middle. Just a little. I’ll take care of it tomorrow.

Another sauce. Another pie. Burger. Fries. Burgers. Fries. Not in moderation. All you can eat. I’ll trim tomorrow.

Back at the mirror. Still hot. Hmm.. face is a bit fuller. Must be a virus. I’m retaining water. Biceps still bulging. Chest still hot. Seems like some company is coming just below my chest. Why are my pants tighter? Too much salt. That’s it. It’s causing me to bloat.

Off to a special occasion. A birthday party. A wedding. A… picture is taken capturing the moment. A copy is sent your way… fuck, that’s not me. You rush to the mirror. You scream. You turn sideways. You scream some more. You keep screaming. You turn back and face the mirror again. Fucker. You’ve been lying to me? Why? What do you mean I was focusing on the wrong place? I’ll cover you. What do you mean that won’t solve the bigger problem? Yeah, my food no longer tastes good. Burger, burger, burger, burger, fries, fries, fries, fries with cheese curds and gravy and big drinks. All bland. I’ve what… reduced food to a habit, not something to take pleasure in? My God, I’ve got ear flab! Scream relentlessly.

Come to think of it most of your extensive and expensive wardrobe has been sitting gaining fashion rust in the closet for many months now. You’ve retreated to your comfy, loose fitting jeans, and belly covering shirts. You’re mind was in on this with the mirror. Today, loose fitting has been stripped from you and soon it will be sweats. You could quit. Don’t. You’ve got too much to offer to yourself to be that weak. So, you make a commitment. Exercise… healthy eating and a return to svelte.

I’ll do 100s upon 100s of abdominal exercises and get me back in no time flat.

If only it was that easy. It’s not? No. Look in the mirror again. See the ear flab? Well, that is the last place you put it on… so it’s the first place it comes off. The crunches and sit-ups will help, only in a calorie burning sense. Who knew crunches would reduce ear flab?

Sure, they may help build a strong core, unfortunately my friends, if you’re like me, it’s no longer a spare tire, instead, it’s a stack, which means the more cluttered the belly-warehouse got, the more places a slowing metabolism looked for to place excess and before we admitted it to ourselves we’re getting unhealthy, fat.

The more weight we stack on the more every area of the body takes on. It starts with the belly, moves up, a little more for the belly, arms next, chin, another chin, more belly, some for the thighs, some ass girth, more belly, arm flab, some more for the jaw line, here you go belly… another wafer, some for the face, belly, cheeks, below the eyes, belly, belly, hair fat (not if you’re bald), belly, chin and…

… I go Cold Turkey. I want it to come off the gut first. Actually, a reduction of face fat would be nice. I’ve suddenly gotten a big head. Yuck. Bringing us to Day 4! As I’ve begun to carve the lbs away I cant help but get a little bummed out. The mirror isn’t playing along this time. 4 lbs in and I turned sideways and screamed. Where the fuck is this weight coming off from? A push on my gut… cool a wave pool. Hey wait… not so cool. This project is pointless. My food is starting to taste better, though.

Finally, Day 5, a little victory, the friends below my chest seem to be retreating. Cool, a highway crew seems to be getting ready to carve a road through the middle of my mid-section. Can’t wait. Who knew I loved the taste of spinach!?!

To answer the where’s the weight coming off from question? A thousand crunches later and a little comes off from the chin, belly, hair fat (not if your bald), belly, belly, below the eyes, cheeks, belly, some from the face…

…until you reach your ultimate goal, whatever you define as acceptable. If you want a six-pack you need to eat accordingly. If you’re okay with a little extra girth, decide how much is healthy and don’t allow anyone else to influence your definitions.

For me, I want to get into the best shape of my life. For me. I want the six-pack, I drink it, therefore, I want to carry one constantly. 155 will get me there. So I’m eating accordingly. No longer am I eating to maintain 179. I’ll let you in on a little secret: every ounce you lose lowers the amount you can eat to maintain your new lower weight. At 179: 2644 calories maintains 179. 155: only 2500. Hence, to get there I’m upping the activity and trying to stay below 2000 calories per day!

As for my gut. I avoid abdominal exercises until I’ve dropped the first 10 lbs. Why?

Because if you focus on the unachievable spot reduction, initially, it’ll have a negative effect. You’ll deposit muscle under flab and although you’ll be reducing weight, you’re gut will expand until you drop enough from it to compensate.

Don’t become another ab-frenzied fool at the gym. Unless you dump weight, a million crunches will do you little good. Sure, you’ll have a strong abdomen, how strong does your ego need it to be?.. and only till you injure yourself, but, c’mon, if you want ripped the only way is to shoot for your ideal weight. And even if you make it… you risk becoming obsessed, which will turn one or two ways, a road to the shiny tower, or re-girthing.

The peanut art above is to illustrate the importance of being aware of what you’re consuming. The picture is approximately 30 grams of peanuts equaling 180 calories. If you’re not aware one peanut fest could quickly exceed 1000 calories.

Take that Charlie Brown!

Bonus morsel:

With the festive season upon us… as important as it is to be healthy, avoid becoming too healthy. Especially if you plan to indulge, imbibe, quaff any substances that may be considered toxic. And definitely don’t do a cleanse now.

The reason: we’re all filled of toxins and if you eradicate everything bad by using a herbal cleanse, when you retox, you’ll just be inviting in a world of pain to your freshly cleansed body. A big night out will quickly turn into the most painful, life trashing, recovery.

So, cleanse after the seasonal debauchery concludes.

If you hop on the party train and enjoy the season fully, might I suggest, supplement life with Milk Thistle. It’ll help your liver survive without any side-effects. Google it!

consumed

Day four:

• B’fast: Tasty green goodness smoothie. 150
• Lunch: Toasted turkey (130 g) w/roma tomato. 410
• Juice Blueberry & Green Tea (glass). 110
• Dinner: 3 pints. 450
• Chicken Breast (200 g) 350
• Peas Grade A. 150
• Peanuts ( 30 gm.). 180
• G total for the day. 1900
  

Day five:

• B’fast: Tasty green goodness smoothie. 150
• Lunch: Toasted tuna sandy. 340
• ½ Arthur’s Green Energy Smoothie 115
• 2 x Peanuts ( 30 gm.). 360
• Chicken Breast (200 g) 350
• Dinner: 4 pints. 600
• Spinach Grade A. 80
• G total for the day. 1995
  

book update

A major literary/media agency out of the UK., requested samples of my memoir this week. A package has been sent. Wish me luck!

love is in the air

I love the road crew that is beginning to work below my chest!

financial forecast

No update! I believe prosperity is around the next corner.

randomness

Flip back to today’s pep talk.

It’s important. We need to stop berating each other. Whether it is face-to-face or behind ones back. I know it’s tough. The behavior has been ingrained in us. We need to buff it out. We can do it ---and if we do, the world will be a better place.

If you need to wean yourself off of verbal trash talk, keep one nemesis, one person that just annoys you to no end. Bitch about that person as much as you like. All the time if you need to. Keep your nemesis tight to you and give every friend constant updates on how your nemesis is destroying your life. Until the day one of your friends tells you to, “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Cause they realize if you’re verbally undressing your nemesis, they’re not immune.

And besides, that’s why we have celebrities, politicians, and athletes. They give there lives for us to shred apart.

SLEEPING IN YOUR UNDERWEAR CAN KILL YOU!

155: day two/three

155: day two/three

november 20/21

pep talk of the day

I’m convinced that our inner dialogue is vital to our happiness!

If we allow negative thoughts in, who doesn’t?.. we lose. The language we choose either, lifts us, or knocks us down to the point where functioning… can be difficult at best. I’ve beaten myself down so much at times that getting up ---- near impossible.

Until?

Until I started to adjust my thinking, life has a way of setting us up, and knocking us down, and, if we laugh at it’s absurdity… we’ve got a chance. If not?

I don’t want to answer that. Anyway, I’ve had my fair share of crap, and I don’t want it anymore. So, what am I going to do about it?

For the most part: force positive, pick myself up with mind control --- I have to, or I’ll go nuts!

For the last several weeks I’ve been unlocking the gates to positive and keeping destructive thought at bay. I know it may sound corny, but when I get down… I kick “down” out, and I spin my thoughts to something constructive. This weeks positive dialogue:

“I’m truly an amazing and beautiful man who will have a positive impact on the world, and I will live a life filled with love, happiness, health and prosperity.” Repeated as often as necessary.

It’s amazing how after ten minutes of allowing no other thought in, spirits soar.

progress report

How did I get fat?

Before I share: do you ever trick your mind into thinking that your hot when physical expansion is bulging to the forefront?

It’s as if our mind is about: two, three, and even four weeks behind our mirrors. We’re all somewhat deluded when it comes to fat. I’m not truly fat, if you are, and you’re pissed at my belly-lacking pains…. screw you!

Anymore time on the current program and I’d be joining a large, extremely large, and growing, portion of the population at the troughs of fat. Fortunately, I caught myself, I’m not fat… not fit either, but instead, somewhere in between, I’m now fet --- and I hate it. I turned sideway one day, and oh boy, “you protrude bitch.”

Next, a shower, “oh my… gone.” Another shower, “where are my toes?” Seriously. If I suck in I can carry on the illusion for a bit… I don’t want to suck, too much!

I understand how it all happens:

1. First, we get older.
2. Activities such as tennis, football, basketball… are replaced by life as the playground changes from frivolity, to: “fuck, nobody told me everything was going to change. Tony no more tennis, why?.. Cause you’re…
3. Without activity and the constant pursuit of stuff, career-driven of course, we suddenly lose time for what matters, however, on the surface we make more coin which allows us to consume more, we simply don’t have the corresponding activity to burn of the consumption.
4. Then we live in denial, we think we can turn around the bus and remove our asses by just retreating to what was. We can’t! So we get fatter… and North America reminds us daily of our new girth through television, diets, and the new posse of svelte up and comers. Sure we make more coin… but we’re being removed from the game. Once that happens… health wanes, we hate ourselves and take it out on those we love, and we fuck everything up and go looking for quick fixes and instant gratification.
5. Next, next is not pretty, we begin to rely on one or two pair of pants… they still fit, sort of. One day not so much… so you feel down. They’re no longer comfy. You deny some more.
6. Suddenly, sweats… and leisure clothes. You’re giving up. And then one day: you’re underwear flops over… and you’re belt is out of notches. You look in the mirror again… and, fuck! It’s over.
   

Not so fast! There’s hope! Stop eating… no, that’s not it. Realize that it doesn’t have to be this way. As for me, I got fet, because I was depressed, wasn’t rolling too well with life issues and so after chiseling a beautiful physique by September, I traded it all in for two-and-a-half months of fast-food. Disgusting… I know. My chest started to hurt --- change became necessary. I’ve got too much life ahead. Hey where did my toes go?

Oh yeah… the progress report. I remind you that I’m a tad nuts and taking this whole personal challenge to the extreme. I suggest you modify yours if you decide to join me. The progress… today, DAY 3, I tipped the scales at 174.6 lbs. A reduction of 4.4 lbs in 3 days!

Extreme I know… I just wanted to kick it all of with a bang!

My lifestyle is changing… and amazingly, the food I’m eating now is far tastier than the crap that got me here in the first place!

fitness fact/tip

Not only have I decided to be a test case for all those who have weight-based, girth-exploding fitness lifestyle challenges --- I’ve, with the help of the Seed Collective decided to give some insight into how difficult changing course can be. We’ll be also offering up as part of the updates a little tidbit to help put into perspective what lies in store once you embark on a path of positive change.

These tasty little morsels will eventually be contained in our upcoming book: Put Down The Fork. And, instead of trying to become the “biggest loser,” that’s not the goal of this program, because we’re all winners after all --- especially when we figure out: lifestyle change is for “ourselves” and not anyone else. If you’re changing for someone else… good luck, you’re not likely doing it for the right reason and staying power will probably be absent from the equation.

That’s not to say a little push along the way isn’t a good thing. For me, in an intimate moment, hearing, “You’re hot… and so is your belly.” Was enough for me.

Today’s fact/tip:

Test subject: 40 years old.
Activity level: moderate.
Height: 5’ 11” (man); 5’ 8” (woman).
Current weight: 175 lbs (man); 130 lbs (woman).
Daily calories required to maintain weight: 2715 (man); 1992 (woman).
Fast food equivalent (# of Big Mac Meals): 2.4 meals (man); 1.8 (woman).
Big Mac, fries, coke: 1130 calories.

For me the equation is as follows: I’m a bit older than the test subject. I’m the same height and starting weight is 179lbs. To maintain that weight I can gorge myself on 2644.5 calories per day or the equivalent of 2.3 Big Mac Meals* a day.

It’s important to note that as we get older, in number only, our calorie intake to maintain diminishes and usually our level of activity is reduced. To make things tougher, factor in that usually we earn more and can afford to eat… which when you toss it all together it can become a lethal combination. Hence, the need to adjust lifestyles before the paramedics start to scream, “clear!”

Bonus morsels:

1 lb = 3500 calories. 1 gram fat = 9 calories. 1 gram protein = 4 calories. 1 gram booze = 7 calories.

For me to lose 24 lbs in 31 days I need to lose: 24 x 3500 = 84,000 calories more than I consume.

Or 2709.7 calories per day… a tall order considering to maintain my weight I can only eat 2644.5 calories per day.

So, therefore, the only hope in hell I have is to up my activity level or stop eating… and to tell you the truth: I’m hungry!

*In no way do we recommend a fast-food nutrition plan. If you choose that plan you may not gain weight as the thought of 2+ meals per day is somewhat disgusting and will lead to a lethargic state of being. However, as your body begins to become toxic you may experience a few changes: If you’re a man… zits and an affinity for women who are far too young for you, eventually delivering you to a truck load of moral and legal problems . If you’re a woman… I don’t know, I’m a man. My suggestion: stay away from guys who eat every meal at burger joints… unless you want to pay the bills of life in the future!

Final note:

I’m upping my activity level to intense and even with that some powerful software suggests my goal is far too aggressive… I say screw powerful software!

The software suggests the earliest I can achieve my goal is February 13th, 2008, by consuming 2003 calories per day and maintaining a high activity intensity level. Crap! They’re suggesting 55 more days than I’ve got planned… again, screw the software!

Anyway you slice it… Cupid, look out!

*Sob* I’m down to less than 2 Big Mac meals per day. Wait a minute, a pint of beer is roughly 150 calories, therefore, if I don’t eat: I can have 13 pints per day. Yummy beer!

consumed

Day two‘s white linen table service:

• Breakfast: Arthur’s Green Energy Smoothie 230 calories
• Lunch: 2 poached eggs on flax bread. 318
• Juice Blueberry & Green Tea (glass). 110
• Dinner: 4 pints. 600
• Chicken Breast (200 g) 350
• Peas 180
• Tasty Beverage 110
• G total for the day. 1898
  

Day three’s scrumptious dining:

• Breakfast: Arthur’s Very Berry Smoothie 160 calories
• Lunch: Toasted tuna sandy. 340
• Iced tea. 150
• Dinner: 3 pints. 450
• Chicken Breast (200 g) 350
• Peas Grade A. 150
• Tasty green goodness smoothie. 150
• 1 Roma Tomato 40
• G total for the day. 1790
  

book update

The “piercing focus” I mentioned at the start of 155 has been eaten up by one request: the literary/media agency that represents one M. Atwood, have requested my memoir, scary… yes, but my dream is to pursue a life that contains a literary aspect, therefore, today I blasted off a package and will receive an answer sometime in the next three months.

Tomorrow: more queries!

love is in the air

I need to let love in. Not just sticky love, but love that has some tender and lasting qualities. In that general feeling, I’ll let you in on some love embers that are starting to flicker. Perhaps, they’ll correspond with my girth reduction!

Stay tuned!

financial forecast

Please send thoughts on my behalf out to the Universe. I don’t want to…

randomness

Rounding it out: this project is a work in progress, ever evolving as I get a grip on my shrinking… I’m glad you’re on board.

Explore the site… there is a lot to offer and I’m certain it’s original. Buy our first book… search the site to find out the title and what it is and all about, I’ll just tell you: 28 - 5 Star reviews!

And finally, come back often… sign up at the bottom left and have the updates sent to you directly!

BE HAPPY!

155: day one

155: day one

monday november 19th

Go!

This time not a big red one… instead, green. It’s time for me to unchunk! And, believe me, I’ve been chunking up at an unparalleled rate. At the start of September, I was tasty svelte, not my words the words of an other. Not the Lost variety, instead, a flesh & blood, Vancouver variety. I was tipping the scales somewhere around 165 delightfully toned head-turning pounds…delusional?

Perhaps!.. I’m sure the heads weren’t turning for me --- but maybe!

Then it all came crumbling down. Each crumb to be consumed by me… hmm scrumptious crumbs. (More on my crumb consumption in a future post).

TIME OUT!

While spelling scrumptious I accidentally inserted an “i” certain that I had made a spelling error… I didn’t, I accidentally spelled it correctly. Kudos to me!

I let you in on something: I’m exceptionally excited by the challenge of 155!

So much so, that I loaded up excessively my last twenty-four hours of consuming crap. Yesterday, McDonalds, followed by beer after beer after beer after.., followed by dill pickle chips, chicken, beer, and something out-of-character when one is girthing-up with arterial destructive behavior, mushy peas!

This morning: cinnamon bun, washed down with chocolate milk, followed up with Burger King for lunch complete with a massive cola, and then it was time to digest for a bit, followed by the gym and hitting the scales. Cold turkey has begun!

Time for WEIGH IN:

179

Ouch! Gluttony lives.

It’s now time to ungirth. 24 pounds to be erased in 31 days. A little too extreme?

Absolutely!

the fine print…

(Don’t try this yourself without some strong soul searching. Visiting your doctor if you live a sedentary lifestyle. The only reason I’m attempting something so extreme… I’m for the most part, always in relatively good shape. Cardio wise, I can handle it… make sure you can before you push yourself to this extent).

…end of fine print.

However, it is time to take the stage of life and break down all limiting aspects of my life. This challenge, although extreme, is important, it represents a starting point and a serious attempt to change lifestyle. Welcome aboard --- as you watch my baby fat melt away!

Not only is the bf going to be eradicated from my body… if all goes well I’m going to drop the % from the neighborhood of 17% all the way down to 7%.

How?

Working my butt off and eating sensibly. Definitely eating, however, after tonight a short 2-3 day fast will be part of the program. Before the fast: Steak, tomatoes, a small portion of pasta with vegetable sauce, some broccoli, all washed down with a yummy blueberry & green tea beverage!

This post was going to touch on some inspirational stuff regarding my fledgling writing career, however, I’ve decided to save that for another day… and that is all for now.

Not quite… one last note as I’m about to leave you: By this Saturday, Day 6, 179 will be reduced to 169... mark my words!

Next update: I’ll tell you how I girthed up in the first place. And I’ll be offering some regular features to the update: the pep talk of the day, a progress report, book updates, what I’ve consumed, and a visit to my softer side as I let you in on my quest for…

Note: If anyone is interested in my workout and nutritional program during the 155 challenge, please send me an email requesting it to: theseedvan @ hotmail.com . Place “155” in the subject line. I’m happy to oblige --- of course at no charge!

See you soon!

query: russians, clowns, drag queens

Query: russians, clowns & drag queens (letters to ed)

Dear Publishers/Agents/Movie Producers/You?:

With the power of the internet... I'd be amiss if I did not send my manuscript query out to the cyber world. Perhaps, that's not the way the publishing industry prefers to operate, instead, they seem to be slowly adjusting to the changing times and still require fledgling authors to go through the tried but true procedure of: query, double-spaced samples, and then rejection, disguised as, "due to the volume of manuscripts we receive... PFO!"

Apparently, their job is to read, however, not really, as they don't have the time to respond. I have the urge to rant, but it's probably not the best course to take.

Anyway, below is the query for my manuscript, the book is good... I'm certain of that. Little victories have confirmed that fact. They came in the form of publishers expressing how; interesting, original, beautifully presented, intriguing, abstract, bizarre and how good the manuscript is. Again, however, since fame hasn't paid me a visit, yet, no contract has been offered.

A celebrity craps... they get a book deal. A real person lives an amazing life, and it's: doubled-spaced with a SASE envelope, at great expense I might add, and who are you?

"Can't I email you a few pages?"

"No... we're too busy. And besides, we decide what people want to read!"

Hopefully, I haven't offended any potential (see greeting), I guess I likely haven't offended my publisher... he'll/she'll understand my frustration. If you are interested in working with a passionate author to bring an amazing story to life. I look forward to hearing from you!

Regards,

Lindsay

postscript: Really a simple question: does the publishing industry need to learn from the mistakes of the recording industry?

That brings us to!

russians, clowns & drag queens

(letters to ed)

Not every day, does someone watch both of their parents die, only to have them magically come back to life eighteen years later!

I am seeking representation for my memoir, russians, clowns & drag queens (letters to ed), complete at 200,000 words. The sequel, Play, is nearing completion and is the continuation of a journey through a fascinating and at times tumultuous life.

I love life and all of the plot twists, both good and bad that it delivers --- the trauma, heartache, colorful characters, hilarity, and the struggle for survival. My life has contained all of these elements on a grand scale and a level that without question… is far greater than that of any fictional character that could be created. russians, clowns, & drag queens (letters to ed), introduces you to a brilliant character, and takes you on an incredible ride through his life.

Imagine a boy named Lindsay, growing up as the youngest of seven. Imagine that boy going through life trying to find his place in the world, screaming out for attention, however, nobody notices - his voice remains silent as he’s trying desperately to fit square pegs into round holes. He knows no better.

His life fills with hope and dreams and he traipses through life with reckless abandon. He creates an imaginary world rich in friendship and tries to remove himself from the daily fights and drama that are present in his family life. He still shouts out, “look at me.” Nobody is looking. His parents are too old, and his brothers and sisters for the most part, don’t care. He still knows no better.

He succeeds in everything he participates in --- in two year stints. In his youth his father becomes ill --- a nine year struggle with cancer, finally succumbing on the day after Lindsay’s twenty-fifth birthday. A year later his mother faces the same dark demon, and after a year long battle, things are looking up!.. until one night, her pain returns and she needs to return to the hospital. On the steps of the family home with tear-filled eyes she looks at Lindsay and says, “I’m never going to be home again, am I?” He tried to remain strong fighting back emotion, and replied, “Of course you will.” Lindsay, knew he was lying. Less than a week later he watched her die. In fact: Lindsay was the only one of the seven children to watch both of his parents take their last breathes of life.

With his parents gone the family splintered apart and Lindsay headed out into the world trying to find his place and assign meaning, alone. Fortunately, his life of ‘screaming out,’ helped him to develop personality, a sense of humor, and the ability to dream. Not without challenges caused by a lack of direction and the struggle to find a sense of belonging. Regardless of the challenges he tackled life head on.

And, what a life it has been! it has been filled with almost unfathomable twists and turns ranging from: buying a hotel in Jamaica, a run in with Manuel Noriega, meeting the Dalai Lama, a near fatal motorcycle accident, playing basketball with Fox Mulder, breakfast with Michael Chiklis, thirteen surgeries, being mistaken for Vin Diesel, finding and losing love --- all the way to a simple conversation with and old man on a bus bench about what really matters in our journey through life.

Then BANG! Everything changed in a heartbeat. Fast-forward… 2003. In a two month time-frame he faced: the collapse of a relationship, five deaths in rapid succession, including a young friends suicide, and, family and friend alienation. Life was spinning out of control. Lindsay was crying every day and needed to escape. He needed a new passport and in the process needed a new birth certificate. Weeks flew by, the tears continued --- still no birth certificate. He inquired about the delay and a civil servant told him that they couldn’t issue him one. He asked, why? To which he was casually met with, “Could you phone your parents and ask them who your real parents are?” In a flash, everything before became a lie and his parents came back to life --- a bizarre and heart-wrenching part of the plot line. His mother… not good news. His father… a mystery, to be solved by a little old lady, and a three year relationship commenced.

russians, clowns & drag queens (letters to ed), takes the reader on a ride through an amazing life. It’s about survival, assigning meaning, and picking up the pieces without becoming too damaged in the process. Readers will be able to relate to: finding first love, learning to drive, experimenting with sex, drugs, and alcohol. They’ll also find bits of themselves in Lindsay’s unrelenting struggle for survival after life had repeatedly knocked him down. This story, my story, has a little bit of everyone in it. The most amazing thing: IT’S A POSITVE STORY with a powerful message. If I can survive - anyone can!

If I had to compare my book to others, I can’t. I can tell you, it’s a combination of everything I’ve been exposed to in life, both good and bad. It is bizarre, abstract, wacky, tragic, emotionally draining, and at times, hilarious. It’s life! Everyone’s life. It’s about hiding behind wit and intelligence and trying to escape uncertainty when there is nowhere to hide and nobody to hide from. It’s not perfect --- neither is life!

I've been writing professionally for five years and am currently a freelance journalist. My articles appear regularly in the 24 Hours Vancouver (circulation 220,000 daily). I’ve also co-authored one book and have made several television and radio appearances. I love telling stories and this is truly an amazing tale! Thank you for your consideration of this proposal. I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Kindest Regards,

Lindsay Wincherauk, Author
Vancouver, BC
Tel: *** ***-****
Email: theseedvan@hotmail.com
Website: http://www.seedenterprises.com/

P.S. In the words of the old man on the bus bench: People matter. It is as simple as that…

155

155

Fun, fun, fun… funnity fun!

Don’t let the picture above disturb you… and in fact, the picture is telling a bit of a fib, that’s more like 175.

What is 155? you ask.

Let me tell you… well, other than being one fine sexy damn number. A one, followed closely by a couple of fives. What’s more sexy than that?

247, c’mon, please!

One: the beginning. Five: half way there. Another five: a pause to enjoy making it that far. Shall I continue…

“No”

You’re right… I’m not making sense.

As for some historical facts about 155:

Roman Empire

• Roman Emperor Antoninus Pius starts a new war against the Parthians who are led by Vologesus. The war is brief and results in an inconclusive peace.
• Rome states that while it will not be recognized as an official religion, Judaism must be tolerated.
• To restore peace between the Jews and Romans, Antoninus relegalizes circumcision.
• The Romans begin to abandon Hadrian's Wall.
  

Asia

• First year of Yongshou era of the Chinese Han Dynasty.
  

Anyhow, 155 is nothing more than my quest for Svelte. Of ridding my body of baby fat and achieving an illusive goal. Today, November 18th, 2007, I tip the scales in the neighborhood of 178 belly bulging lbs. Too many, and no longer necessary --- unless hibernation is forecast for my future.

It’s time, I’ve tried the other options for months, hell, years now --- all to no avail. Failure has been kicking me in the junk for quite some time now, therefore, it’s time to search for a radical solution to my pressing dilemma. Cold fucking turkey --- is painfully, appearing to be the only solution.

I searched for other answers and I tried to trick my mind: today will be the last day. Shit. That’s okay, we all screw up --- tomorrow will be the last day. Crap. After the weekend --- that will be the last time. Damn it! One more time --- I want to go out with a bang --- enjoy every bite. Pisser.

Mind, you’re one slick manipulator. You’ve left me no other options. I need to fight for my survival. Vanity has issued an ultimatum: get with the program or I’m going to leave you forever. How’d you like that dough boy? Well… how?

So there you have it: Cold turkey it is. I have no choice.

So come along with me on my journey… 31 days and a dump of 23 pounds. Can I do it… check in for the updates… before I start, I’m off to eat Poutine!

Tomorrow: Weigh in.

Start day: November 19th. Finish: Just before Christmas.

Oops... I almost forgot to define cold turkey!..

Since I’m not going to give up sex and the wonderful soothing qualities of Triptophan, as an alternative, I’ve decided: no cola, no harsh... no French fries, and a heavy reduction in the consumption of beer. That way, I’ll avoid the inevitable turn-to: sexless, that likely comes as an end result of the over consumption of crap. I’ve managed to keep father time at bay for quite some time now, however, my recent all junk diet, coupled with the over quaffing of beer, throw in the odd audio hallucinatory… and it is time.

“Harsh dude.”

I know --- but it must be done. It’s for the greater good. I’m going to take one on the chin for the team. Lead by example. At least till I get my weak-assed, will-powerless, lifestyle-destroying, temptation-chasing, mind and body back in control of my life game. It’s either I take this drastic measure, or I get rid of all mirrors and hide. And, I’m not a very good hider.

You see: I’ve always prided myself on being in stellar physical condition. My penis was always in sight by just glancing downward. As of late: I’m afraid that unless my upper abdomen grows its own penis --- it’s slipping away. My dick is becoming a good hider.

“One, two, three…ten. Ready or not here I come. Where did you go?”

I don’t want to loose him. He’s important to me --- cold turkey has become a necessity. That subway guy pretty much went on a diet of cold turkey and look what it’s done for him. I said look. Are you looking?

At the end of my our journey... I'll post another picture, a provocative picture. Perhaps, with a glance at my nether regions. Wouldn't that be delightful?

Don't leave, yet, I have one more piece of business to attend to, my manuscript, my first memoir: russians, clowns & drag queens (letters to ed).

It's done! It's good! It's funny! It's traumatic! It's inspirational! It's bizarre! I could go on --- but I won't. It's time for it to come to fruition, to find a publishing home, in that spirit, 155, and the thirty-one days involved, are to be thirty-one days of piercing focus at the end of which, that said publishing home, is to be secured. Can I do it?

Come along for the ride and see... it's time to stop being the underdog!

Day 1: November 19th, 2007.

Day 31: December 20th, 2007.

Wish me luck!

spin doctor

spin doctor

Breathe, Lindsay, breathe… in, out, in, out…

Okay, that’s better… is it really? Am I on the verge of another stint of faking it!?!

You may have just red, I mean read: ending… if you haven’t, I kindly ask you to take the time to do so now.

I didn’t edit the first version of the consumption of the above word because it stands for understanding, and life at the same time… it also, when it flows externally, stains the earth, bringing death and completion, until it clots, hardens and it’s washed away. Replaced eventually by the pain of another participant in the life experiment. Both versions share similar traits if you look close enough --- vital to tomorrow and tomorrow and every tomorrow after that.

Anyway, I’d really appreciate it if you read ending now. It’s part of the letting you, whomever you may be, in. Thank you!

Spin doctor: this chapter, segment, post, diatribe, personal rambling, and search for understanding is the aftermath of another shattering experience. It is also an experiment, you see, I’m clocking this inclusion… fifteen minutes max, starting with a big red GO. Fifteen minutes to spin the heartache of ending into something positive. Complete with one picture that to me shares beauty, and has its eyes on the future. Maybe you’ll see it, too.

Anyway:

GO

It’s 6:52 now and I’m going to blast this off in the next fifteen minutes and try to find some silver lining in the remnants of heartache.

Why am I doing this? Why am I sharing this with you? Letting you in? Leaving myself open to judgment, while at the same time leaving myself vulnerable?

I don’t know… I think it is part of the life process. A way for me to grow. A way to share with you hurt and pain… and, in the end of it all, maybe letting you in to show you that I will survive and I will eventually be alright. Maybe I’m lying. Maybe I’m just kidding myself and I’m just the greatest con artist of all time and my mark, is me.

After reading the first portion of this wordiness, you may think I’m lost and not capable of sensible thoughts. Maybe I’m not. Last Sunday, Saturday when you really think about it, my life bombarded me with emotion. Saturday, I went out and for a lack of a better term, got wrecked. Messed up… Sunday, in my state of toxic destruction… everything from the last four years of family shit took me out and placed me on this perilous ledge where I thought I was going to die. I truly believed my heart was about to stop... seriously! I think for a brief moment --- it may have.

Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to take my own life, or do I want to… I had just overindulged in escaping and left myself precariously close to destruction. I let everything that society, well, that mostly I, was suppressing, and placed it on my shoulders --- letting it crush me and bring me down. I’d been experimenting with positive thought for the last several weeks ---- nothing negative was allowed in, “I’m an amazing man, who’ll have a positive impact on the world and I will live a life filled with love, health, happiness and prosperity,” played on one continuous loop.

I even faked happiness by continuing to be my bizarre wacky self. Must entertain others, keep the mood light ---- it’s who I am. Doesn’t matter that I said hello and goodbye to my father in the same month.

And unbelievably, even when I try to keep mine, and those around me, spirits from falling, I'm met with, "Michael told me you're full of useless information." Despite of his knowledge of the emotional plank my life is balancincg on. A sad example of another human trying to discount life and destroy personality... again, being marginal. I feel sorry for those who diminish others.

Just think: Elmer, in ending, wasn’t my father, and he wanted to be. How brilliant is that!?!

Perhaps that is all that I need... to know I've impacted another, as he did me, to the point where without confirmation of red (blood ties), he'd be honored to assume the role! Now the challenge: convincing myself I'm worthy.

You may think sharing is self-indulgent and the purpose of web journals? A way for families to stay in touch, share pictures of the lake, of happiness, of trying to sell good times?

Sure, I guess that’s part of it… is that really life, or just the selling of good times? The selling of a fantasy?

For me sharing is about letting others in. It is about being vulnerable… we don’t learn from each other in the good times. They’re too easy. In a sense: substance less.

To me: we grow when we are served up difficulty. When we want to turn and run away. If we run… we shrivel up and become marginal and lifeless. If we allow the pain in with all of it’s associated hope, dark thoughts, and the struggle to survive and assign meaning… we’ll grow. Our lives will be enriched and we’ll become beacons of hope for all others searching for love and understanding.

To me: if we hide behind heartache… sure, others will smile with you, however, when you truly need them… they’ll likely vanish into thin air. Tough times define friendship and love. I’m loved. Without pain… I’d never know for sure.

I’ve got seven minutes left, six… it’s time to spin. To find the positive from four, forty-seven years of lies. Well, where do I begin without sounding too egotistical?

Fuck that! I need my your support, if you know me, you’ve seen my humbleness, and you’ll understand that I need to be lifted from the hurt. If you try to quash me: fuck you!

Okay, spin: I am an amazing guy… I’ve faced a plethora of bizarre challenges and although at times they get the best of me, I find a way to rise up and move on. Maybe a little weighed down, but I can handle the weight for the most part.

I’m good to others… always. I make the odd mistake with that, however, I try, and I’m cognizant of my errors.

Two minutes left. I don’t blame. I love… unfortunately, I’m a bit afraid of being loved back. I want to make a difference. I’m passionate about life… I want those around me to be as well. Actually, everyone.

One minute. I share. Why is that important?

Winding it down. Cause, I’m a bit of a guinea pig. Life can be destructive, it can bring bitterness, it can defeat us and lead us down dark paths where getting up is nearly impossible. If it’s kicked me in the junk as many times as it has and I can rise… hey, I’m not feeling sorry for myself, and I can claw my way back up. So can you! Get up. Tomorrow is coming, along with whatever it may bring ---and every life is a fascinating story that needs to be embraced and cherished…

Just about out of time… love life, love others, if we do, regardless of what is brought our way, we’ll all be making our world a better place!

I may be broken, but I love… and I've even made love during one of my lowest points.

Making love is beuatiful, breath-taking, exilarating, messy, and if in its completion, when you're spent and covered in... a new begining.

Just remember if it ends with a towel, it's not true love!