donger need food.

Why must my happiness be dictated by food?

What is it about a bloody rare piece of marbled USDA Prime that makes my knees tremble and a smile of glee form on my face?


And it's not just the type of food too. It's the quantity. Cold tofu for lunch is healthy, but 20 pounds of it in a week doesn't really do me much good.


Someone asked me the other day, "what's your secret?" Honestly, I really don't know. But I do know that there is no "magic bullet". I didn't just wake up one day and bam -- fifty pounds gone.

Nope, it took years of a steady increase in weight, and relentless nagging by your closest friends and family. It was the embarrasing snoring problem that kept getting louder and louder. It was the frustrating pain of a more frequent and increasingly acute gout condition, hobbling my ability to walk for weeks at a time. It was my father's diagnosis of adult onset diabetes. It was the automatic self-deprecation every time I saw myself in a photo. It was hearing of an old coworker's sudden death by massive heart attack (sitting at a traffic light!) at only thirty something years old. It was the constant worrying that I was not healthy, and definitely not happy. And so I made that commitment to myself, quietly: No more Doritos. No more chocolate. No more breads. No more beef (err...not as much beef). Shop right, buy the right foods in the first place. Hit the gym.



And so after a now six month hiatus (damnit!) I'm faced with those daily (same) battles once again. The constant struggle to quit procrastinating and force my lazy ass into the gym. The never ending fight against the desire to eat "just one more piece", "just one more bite". And that's how it all started in the first place. All those little decisions you make all add up, and pretty soon you find yourself with a six inch bigger waist.

You want to know what the secret is? Someone has to kick your ass. And it's not going to be your family or your friends, it has to be YOU.