Feast your eyes on how fat I’ve gotten:
I have put myself on a diet. Not the “miracle diet,” which was my pet name for anorexia back in freshman year of high school. Back then, I only ate sugar free gummy bears and fruit, drank Diet Coke all day, then at about 1 or 2 AM would go running for a couple miles. Before sleep I would do one hundred sit ups and fifty pull ups. Day in and day out. Believe me, the “miracle diet” worked, to the tune of eighty pounds. Didn’t hurt that I was also going through my growth spurt at the time, but I managed to drop sixty to seventy pounds over summer vacation. When I got back to school, acquaintances didn’t even know who I was.
Not that diet, not now. I occasionally go through brief flurries of physical workouts, don’t get me wrong. Just a few months ago I was running weekly down by the Cambridge reservoir, eventually hitting a high water mark of five miles. My lifestyle in the restaurant industry was the impetus for that routine, and that same lifestyle is probably what ground the gears of my working out to a halt. Now, teetering on the brink of 200 pounds, I wish I had kept it up the whole time, but there’s no way to buy back into the past, even with cash tips from the restaurant. Instead, I am following Jared back to the future.
I dub my new weight loss strategy the “Subway diet,” even though I fully realize there may be trademark issues. This diet and the famous Subway diet are substantially different, however, and I think the suits will respect those differences. Jared was on a very strict regimen, and by God of grinders, if I was getting paid to lose weight I think I could manage that. In an effort, however, to build into my program enough flexibility so that the diet fits comfortably into my restaurant lifestyle, I will be less strict. That means that if I want to go for a twelve inch sub on any given day, then that is alright.
If I want to have a turkey sub from Subway with no cheese, and then go to work and eat a cheeseburger, that is alright. If there are days that I eat constantly throughout the day and then go out at night that is not alright, however. Those are the days that make me want to diet, and in the generous restaurant in which I work, those days are the problem. But I can’t beat myself up too much, because my knowledge of food and alcohol has greatly expanded in tandem with my waist line, and that makes me better at my job. It does not make me more attractive to guys. Certainly it has hurt my appeal in a swimsuit. As my sister recently pointed out. She compared my physique to a baby walrus.
The next step will be to get a gym membership. The only thing that bothers me about gyms is when people don’t rinse off before they get into the hot tub. That turns the hot tub into a tarpit loose with armpit juices, and that makes me want to stay home. I’m not saying that I have to join a gym that has a hot tub. But I am under the impression that all gyms have swimming pools, hot tubs, saunas, and ladies to lay burning hot stones on my feet. Losing weight is a battle, and so I must create myself a comfort zone as well as a warzone. That is the essence of civilization, be it a lie or truth. Its simply how I choose to live my life.