Okay, maybe I didn't take a whole week off. But family was in town, the weather was awful and I took a few days off. Getting on the treadmill today literally took my breath away, and not in a good way.
There's something to be said about consistency. Our bodies crave it. And it goes both ways. Work hard consistently and your body will crave the exercise, the good food, the weight loss. But spend too many days in a row being a little bit lazier than usual, eating a little bit more than you should, and it doesn't take long for your body to start craving those things again.
The good news is that it doesn't take much to stay consistent, and it doesn't take perfection. Weight loss isn't about being perfect. It's just about being consistent enough to see results.
The other good news is, today is the first day of the rest of your journey toward a healthy life. No matter what, you can always start over.
So, today was just the beginning of a new chapter. A rocky beginning, but a beginning nonetheless.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Thursday, April 1, 2010
The Beginning
The genesis of the Nobody Diet has its roots in two very simple concepts: lack of money and cynicism.
Late September of 2009. My daughter was now just over a month old, and my wife and I sat on the couch, reflecting on the last year. Our son had turned one, we had endured (I should say my wife had endured) another long pregnancy and here we were, sitting in the family room, looking at the results: one 17-month old writing on the couch with a pen, the other sleeping on my chest.
But there were other results, of course. My wife had been through back-to-back pregnancies (our daughter was born just 16 months after our son) and the pregnancy weight was beginning to grate on her nerves. It was time, she said, to get rid of it.
I scoffed at first. I had dieted before, with sometimes good results, but never the life-changing results you see on shows like the Biggest Loser. I knew how hard it was, how much effort it required just to then turn around and gain all the weight back.
I'd been overweight since adolescence. Hitting a growth spurt around my sophomore year of high school, my appetite shot up and, like a typical teenager, I was eating everything in sight. After several months, my growth spurt died, but the appetite didn't.
Fast forward about 10 years, to the summer of 2007. Jeni and I were living in DC and I looked at myself in pictures and, frankly, was disgusted of myself. I didn't recognize myself. I stepped on a scale for the first time in ages and the number shocked me: 253 pounds. According to a BMI calculator, that put me squarely in the obese category. I was 72 pounds overweight.
Jeni and I joined Gold's gym, and in a matter of about four months, I lost 18 pounds. I would go on to yo-yo diet for the next two years, getting back up as high as 245 pounds and down to 218, and then back up.
It was starting to get old, so when Jeni suggested last September that we try again, on the outside I put my best foot forward. But on the inside, I was skeptical.
Late September of 2009. My daughter was now just over a month old, and my wife and I sat on the couch, reflecting on the last year. Our son had turned one, we had endured (I should say my wife had endured) another long pregnancy and here we were, sitting in the family room, looking at the results: one 17-month old writing on the couch with a pen, the other sleeping on my chest.
But there were other results, of course. My wife had been through back-to-back pregnancies (our daughter was born just 16 months after our son) and the pregnancy weight was beginning to grate on her nerves. It was time, she said, to get rid of it.
I scoffed at first. I had dieted before, with sometimes good results, but never the life-changing results you see on shows like the Biggest Loser. I knew how hard it was, how much effort it required just to then turn around and gain all the weight back.
I'd been overweight since adolescence. Hitting a growth spurt around my sophomore year of high school, my appetite shot up and, like a typical teenager, I was eating everything in sight. After several months, my growth spurt died, but the appetite didn't.
Fast forward about 10 years, to the summer of 2007. Jeni and I were living in DC and I looked at myself in pictures and, frankly, was disgusted of myself. I didn't recognize myself. I stepped on a scale for the first time in ages and the number shocked me: 253 pounds. According to a BMI calculator, that put me squarely in the obese category. I was 72 pounds overweight.
Jeni and I joined Gold's gym, and in a matter of about four months, I lost 18 pounds. I would go on to yo-yo diet for the next two years, getting back up as high as 245 pounds and down to 218, and then back up.
It was starting to get old, so when Jeni suggested last September that we try again, on the outside I put my best foot forward. But on the inside, I was skeptical.
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