I’ve been on my weight loss kick for ten days now, so let’s see how we’re doing. I’ve lost… one pound. Maybe. Uh oh.
I say “maybe” because we have a rather inexact scale. It’s very small, so I have to arrange my feet a certain way or it won’t register a consistent weight at all, and it’s an old dial scale. I am skeptical of it, to say the least. If I lose the 21 pounds I plan on, it’ll show around a 21-pound drop, so that’s fine, but for fine slicing my progress it’s not all that helpful.
I used to have a digital scale that measured to fifths of a pound. (I don’t know why fifths, either.) I don’t know where it went; it vanished when I moved in with Mrs. MAJ. When I did my first weight loss kick in 2010, it was sufficiently precise that I’d make sure I peed before I got on it.
So anyway the weight is not exactly coming off super fast. In my defense, I did just have surgery on my nuts, and maybe I’ve been doing a little comfort eating. You’ll forgive a guy for a few extra bites, surely, if he literally has a hole in his junk? More to the point, though, I can’t exercise much for awhile. Doctor’s orders.
Nut-surgery may may have also saved my right leg, which by last Friday was in pretty bad shape. I’m quite sure it’s not the knee, thank God, but just that all the muscles and ligaments and tendons collectively decided “Jogging sucks.” Like an idiot, I did not stretch before running. I never used to have to. When I was a strapping young man I just went out and did things. in the Army we ran every morning and it was no big deal. We’d run 5K and then eat like pigs and drink beer that night and run some more the next day. I played baseball and tennis and any number of sports and didn’t stretch and I was fine. Once (this is true) I was being tutored in Calculus by a fellow Queen’s student and also an officer in my army unit, Cathy, and I saw a bunch of my friends out in the parking lot playing full contact road hockey, and I literally ran away from Cathy with her yelling “Come back here and do these problems! You aren’t finished these derivatives!” and went out and played hockey and got knocked down and had a great time, no stretching. Anyway, I have an aversion to stretching because I’m the least flexible person on earth who is still actually alive.
Now I’m old and I won’t get up from the couch without thinking about whether the pain is worth what I’m getting up for.
So I guess I need to stretch more. I’ll let you know in ten more days – that’s a week after the exercise ban – how things have gone.
So the thing on my mind today is, when you lose weight, where does it go? Think about it. We talk about “Burning calories” but it has to GO somewhere. Even things that burn are just being turned into other forms of matter. It isn’t being turned into energy, I’m not a nuclear reactor. If you turned a pound of matter entirely into energy, by the way, that would equal 9.7 megatons of energy, which would make your gut the largest nuclear weapons in the world. I do not advise nuclear fusion as a weight loss method.
I’ve always kind of assumed, to be honest, that when you lose weight you poop more and sweat out the rest. Made sense to me. But I looked it up and that’s not it. In fact, most of it is exhaled. Seriously; more than 80% of your fat, you breathe out your lungs as carbon dioxide. Isn’t that amazing?
So when you go to the gym, people’s fat is in the air all around you. You’re inhaling THEIR fat, and exhaling your own. It’s a big fat cloud and you’re in it. If you didn’t think the gym was disgusting before, I bet you do now. When you see me lumbering down the street trying to lose weight I’ve leaving a trail of my fat in the air behind me. You can’t escape it, everyone’s fat is everywhere now.
Come over. Breathe my fat.
Today’s question: What do you think I should do to lose weight if my leg won’t let me run anymore?