Friday, April 30, 2010

....Shit

Dear Diary,

I got an email this morning from Girl 9. The kind that started with "Hey there :)" and ended with "I really think you are a wonderful man. Best of luck to you!"

She said she isn't ready to date. I can respect that.

But at some point one starts to think. I have been in the dating world for a year, and I have gotten more than these types of reactions than I would like. At some point one starts to look in the mirror, you know?

You start to wonder if it is going to be like this forever. You start to wonder if you are going to ever get used to this feeling. You start to wonder if they are not ready to date or just not ready to date you.

You start to look in the mirror. You start to see imperfection. You start to see everything that is wrong, while not seeing what is right. You start to question if it is even worth it. You start to question everything.

And then you remember. You remember coming home to someone. You remember what it was like to curl up on the couch with someone. You remember what her laugh sounded like. And then you start to hear her voice again, calling you that one pet name only she called you.

And then you remember the pain. You remember the embarrassment. You remember the shame you felt. You remember how alone you felt.

And then you remember how hard you worked. You remember how much you have grown. You remember that you are stronger. You remember you are wiser. You remember who you are now is much better than who you were then.

And then you remember that you are worth something. And then you realize that one day, maybe, you will be worth something to someone else again. And then you realize that while these little messages are disappointing, they happen to people everyday, and you are not alone.

And then the reflection in the mirror doesn't look so bad after all.

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Yeah, Ok Well....

Dear Diary,

I haven't written a dating update in a while because there really was nothing to write about. I went out twice with Girl 9, and once with Girl 10 in the last six weeks I think. Three dates in over a month? Yeah, like I said, not much to write home about.

I will start with Girl 10 because we had one date and it was quick and painless. She was nice enough, but talked a hell of a lot. She talked about her divorce a lot, and talked about herself a lot. She was cute, and I was willing to give it a shot at a second date to at least try to get to know her more, but she let me know she wasn't feeling it, and wished me the best. That was honesty. That I can respect.

Girl 9 is a bit of a different story. I haven't seen her in 3 weeks. I thought our second date went well enough, and we have texted back and forth. She has been busy with seminars and shit like that, but I have told her a couple times I would like to see her again.

And I get no response, or a change of subject. When she has a long day and we are texting and I try to lighten up her mood by reminding her that I owe her an ice cream cone, I get told I am amazing. But when I mention getting together again, I don't get told anything.

I can respect someone who will tell me yes, or even no. In fact, I can respect someone even more if they tell me no, because telling someone no is not always easy. But the "I don't know, kinda, maybe, we'll see," wishy washy bullshit drives me up a fucking wall. The only way I should have to pull teeth is if I was a damn dentist, thank you very much.

So, I extended a branch to see if Girl 9 would like to go out this weekend. If I hear from her, then great. If I don't, then I am not worried about it. I have enough stuff I have to deal with anyway that will take up enough of my time other than dating.

Like landscaping. Who wants to volunteer?

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Real Quick

Dear Diary,

Just a couple of quick points:

-I didn't lose any weight this week. No biggie. I am just going to have to keep working at it.

-I royally fucked up my back, so working at losing weight this week is going to be challenging, but doable.

-Did I mention I fucked up my back? Ouch

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Week 1

Dear Diary,

This week, I went to the gym five days. I watched what I ate, and counted calories. I did not starve myself at all. I ate what I wanted to eat. If I wanted peanut butter, I had some, just not a lot of it. I met up with Sunshine and grabbed a bite to eat, and had a salad topped with a turkey burger patty. I paid attention to what I was putting in my body, as well as the level of exercise that I was doing.

And then this morning, I stepped on the scale and......

I lost seven pounds in one week.

Am I happy? You better believe it.

However, I am also a bit frustrated because it was so damn easy to do. I could have been doing this for years and I wouldn't be in the place that I am today, physically speaking. I mean, it was easy, and I felt good the entire time.

As far as eating, there were more days than I can count that I found myself uncomfortably full. It probably had to do with the fact that I consumed a ton of dietary fiber. You know that type of fiber, it is the one that gives you gas and makes you shit bricks. But I also ate a healthy amount of protein, and even some fats.

But the larger point is that I paid attention to what I was doing and where I am focused on getting. If I can keep this up (which I will) I will hit my goal probably faster than I am expecting to. Now I am not anticipating to drop seven pounds every single week. That would probably be unhealthy. But, since I did drop that much, that does not mean I am going to take time off to balance out the schedule I set for myself. You know the mentality, the "Well, I did great last week so I can be a fat ass slacker this week," mentality.

Not going to happen. Ever again.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

2-6-4

Dear Diary,

I had a date this afternoon, and while getting ready, I was looking for a pair of shoes in my storage closet, and stumbled upon something I had not seen in a while.

A scale.

Having not stepped on a scale in what seems like months, I was a bit apprehensive, but figured I should get it over with and see whether or not I had kept pace with my diet and exercise. I had not.

2-6-4.

That is what it read. 264 fucking pounds. That is 16 pounds lighter than I was when I first started really dropping weight in September of 2006. That is 44 pounds heavier than I was right before my ex and I split up. That is 24 pounds heavier than I was in October.

Fuck me royally.

All the hard work I had put into becoming a healthier man vanished. I can honestly say that I have never, and I mean ever, been more disappointed in myself. I sit here literally dumbfounded.

How the fuck could I let myself do that? How the fuck could I not pay attention like that? How the fuck can I expect anyone to notice me when I look in the mirror and can actually see that something is not going right? FUCK FUCK FUCK.

My goal was to be at 200 pounds by Labor Day of this year. I have a big reunion that weekend and I wanted to look and feel great for it.

Now, to some, 200 pounds is a lot of person, but on my frame, with muscle, 200 pounds isn't that big at all. I will look healthy quite honestly, and if it dips lower than 200, you won't see me fucking crying about it.

But 264, yes, you will see me cry about that.

So, I of course searched on the web for any type of tip that I could find about how to safely lose weight, any type of calorie counter/calculator I could find, and I found this:

344 Pounds

This a story of a guy who one day looked at himself and said, "Enough is ENOUGH!"

I have been reading some of his postings, and they are nothing but awe inspiring. This is a man that has lost so far about 140 pounds and he has done it in just over a year. If this kid can do it, so can I.

It really was inspiring to read about someone who has felt some of the same things that I have over the course of my life. It is also inspirational in the fact that this guy has just dropped weight by busting his ass and eating healthy.

If he can do it, so can I.

So, after my date, I came home and went straight to the gym where I did some upper body work and hit the treadmill for 2 miles. Tomorrow I am going to begin putting myself though utter hell for the next I do not know how many months.

I have 21 weeks until Labor Day weekend. I plan on losing on average about 1.5 to 2 pounds per week until that weekend, which will put me somewhere in the 220 to 230 pound range. I will provide updates on my progress through here. By New Years, I plan on being either close to my goal, or at it.

If he can do it, so can I.

Fuck this shit, so WILL I.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Broken Records

Dear Diary:

Have you ever had to tell a story so many fucking times that you just get tired of telling it. I have. Can you guess which story I am talking about? Oh, I bet your sweet ass you can.

I am really tired of talking about my divorce. I mean, it happened. So what? I could tell you the short version and just say that it didn't work out, or I could tell you the long version and go through all the bullshit that I found in discovery. But seriously, what is the point?

What does it matter that I am divorced? Big fucking deal.

I guess that is why I am kinda feeling somewhat positive about a possible date with Girl 10, who also happens to be divorced. We can sort of share battle stories over a glass of wine or another type of adult beverage, and be done with. But, that is about as positive as I am feeling about Girl 10 at the moment.

I only say that because I still have body image issues (yes ladies, you are not the only ones that deal with this bullshit). She is shorter than me by a few inches, and cannot weigh more than a buck fifteen. I almost feel as though I could literally break this woman, or if I sneeze to hard she might fly away.

Eh, big fucking deal to that too.

At least I can have a drink.

And yes I know that I am rambling.

_______________________________________________


On another note, I am finding a great irony in the entire online dating thing. It seems to come in spurts (no pun intended). There are dry spells when you do not hear back from anyone for weeks at a time, and then all of a sudden you are bombarded with responses that you have to sift through.

As you can imagine, the lull is well, a bit boring and can get somewhat tiresome if you don't have the right mindset. On the flip side, when one is bombarded, it is both a gigantic ego boost as well as a bit mind boggling and overwhelming. But, generally the ego part wins.

Ok, now I can tell I am really rambling. Must get sleep.