I've been losing weight lately, and I haven't even been trying. I think that all the working out at the gym with a trainer is finally paying off. If I had to guess, I would say that I'm increasing my lean body mass enough that it is having a positive effect on my metabolism. Finally! I went to the gym this morning and I am getting very strong. I was able to "skin the cat" on the hanging rings, and I was able to jump up to a pull-up position and hold it, while holding my legs out perpendicular to my body. And I can do push-ups. Regular push-ups.
I have come to accept the fact that I will have to continue with a pretty regimented work-out routine because when it comes to food, I am hopeless. My aunt and I have discussed the fact that we have both asked the question, "Can I have your fat?" to people we have eaten dinner with who for some unfathomable reason don't like the fatty edge of pork chops or steak. We decided that anyone who has uttered the phrase, "Can I have your fat?" better face the fact that they will always have to be super active if they don't want to balloon up.
Also I was reading some of my old blog posts and I came across a telling old gem. I was writing about how I found the story in the song "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" disturbing, but not because they all died in a shipwreck, but because of their food situation:
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the Gales of November came slashin'.
They had to wait for breakfast because of the terrifying storm. Ugh, I hate waiting for breakfast, and then...
When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck sayin'.
Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya.
At Seven P.M. a main hatchway caved in, he said
Fellas, it's been good t'know ya
Well? Did they eat lunch? That cook is a real downer. Like it's not bad enough to be in a cold, scary storm, but for the cook to refuse to feed you supper because of it? Especially after not serving breakfast? That sucks! And then at seven p.m., when the main hatchway caved in, I bet everyone was really depressed and scared (and hungry) and that old bastard rubbed it in by saying, "Fellas, it's been good t'know ya." Way to think positive, Old Cook!
I have come to accept the fact that I will have to continue with a pretty regimented work-out routine because when it comes to food, I am hopeless. My aunt and I have discussed the fact that we have both asked the question, "Can I have your fat?" to people we have eaten dinner with who for some unfathomable reason don't like the fatty edge of pork chops or steak. We decided that anyone who has uttered the phrase, "Can I have your fat?" better face the fact that they will always have to be super active if they don't want to balloon up.
Also I was reading some of my old blog posts and I came across a telling old gem. I was writing about how I found the story in the song "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" disturbing, but not because they all died in a shipwreck, but because of their food situation:
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the Gales of November came slashin'.
They had to wait for breakfast because of the terrifying storm. Ugh, I hate waiting for breakfast, and then...
When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck sayin'.
Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya.
At Seven P.M. a main hatchway caved in, he said
Fellas, it's been good t'know ya
Well? Did they eat lunch? That cook is a real downer. Like it's not bad enough to be in a cold, scary storm, but for the cook to refuse to feed you supper because of it? Especially after not serving breakfast? That sucks! And then at seven p.m., when the main hatchway caved in, I bet everyone was really depressed and scared (and hungry) and that old bastard rubbed it in by saying, "Fellas, it's been good t'know ya." Way to think positive, Old Cook!
Just to clarify, not any old fat. That fat has to be darned good and crispy.
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