A bag of carrots for breakfast. A salad for lunch. Rice cakes in the interim. Rice cakes for Pete’s sake! We’re only three days into Fatquest 2 and already I ‘m contemplating the exuberant joys of Moeatlover’s pizza and twinkies bathed in lard.
I woke up this morning and my knees screamed at me.
“What the hell you are doing to us?” they yelled at the top of their non-existent lungs.
“What do you mean?” I asked them.
“What’s with all the exercise? Why all the walking?”
“I need to loose weight again.”
“But I thought you were all done with that,” the left one said.
“Yeah,” the right one said with a tint of worry in its voice. “Why are we starting all that again?”
“In case you haven’t noticed,” I said, “but we haven’t exactly reached out goal.”
“What’s this we crap, fatty,” Left Knee said. “You’re on your own this time. Remember that beer vending experiment?”
“Um,” I said.
“Yeah,” said Right. “Everything was going along well and then you tried to be a beer vendor for the Reds.”
“That was two months from hell, let me tell you,” said Left.
“Really,” said Right. “What kind of stuff were you smokin’ that actually allowed you to believe you could carry your already gargantuan frame up and down steep ballpark steps while carrying four cases of cheap beer?”
“It was the money,” I said. “I made $300 a game. You can find the energy and the courage to do pretty much anything at that rate.”
“You’ve got a point,” they said.
“Look guys, I’ll do my best to make things easy on you. No more 10 mile walks through the wilderness and no more jumping jacks. I’ll stay on level ground, I’ll give you at least one day of rest each week, and I’ll even try that sugar-free jello trick Suzanne kept telling us about.”
“Hey, she was hot!” said Left.
“Dude,” said Right. “That’s not right. We were her boss.”
“So what,” said Left. “It doesn’t stop her from being hot.”
“You’ve got a point there,” said Right, and we all laughed.
So now that my knees are on board with FatQuest2™, it seems that things are well underway. Now all I need to do is convince my stomach, which has retreated to a corner to whimper, and my intestinal system, which has protested mightily at all the influx of fiber.
I might have a battle on my hands with those two, but I think that with enough coaxing they’ll eventually come around.
…and now for something completely different…
I followed a young woman and very large man into the elevator on the way into work this morning. The young woman retreated to the back of the elevator car, but the man stood in the center, taking up most of the space. I tried to move around him but, being an extra for the movie “Remember the Titans” myself, this proved difficult. The man, noticing my struggle, smiled apologetically and said, “Here…let me get my J.Lo out of the way!”
I just thought that was funny. But now I’m not sure why.