Did Popeye's Always Smell That Good? or No, I Don't Want Any Of Your Chicken

So I lied. I said yesterday that a new blog would be coming this morning, but I didn't have time to get to it. So, it's now afternoon, and I've taken a lunch break and figured I'd get a blog in now because tonight I have a feeling I'm going to be pooped.

"Why?" You may be asking.

Tonight is a three hour rehearsal. A three hour DANCE rehearsal. I'm going prepared tonight though. No jeans this time, just my loose (and getting looser) fitting Marvel pajama pants, a loose fitting shirt and plenty of water. It's ON. So, no gym today. I'll be hitting up Body Pump tomorrow morning, however, then a DANCE rehearsal from 10-4! It's gonna be...poop.

But that's not the reason for this blog entry.

Cigarette smokers or former cigarette smokers, I need to ask you guys a question. Rather, I need to present a scenario and I'd like some responses on if what I'm experiencing is similar to cigarette withdrawal.

Why does all fast food smell SO GOOD to me right now? I swear, it's like I've gone mutant and gained a dog's sense of smell. Every time I pass by a McD's, BK, Wendy's, and especially Popeye's, my nostrils are filled with the delectable aroma of meat. Greasy, greasy meat. And it smells sooo good. I thought abstaining from fast food would get easier the longer I went with out it. Nuh-uh. It's gotten to the point where I have to make sure I'm on the opposite side of a drive thru entrance so I'm not tempted to cross traffic and get a big ol hunk of fast food badness.

It's even worse on Thursdays, specifically yesterday.

On Thursdays, I take my aging grandmother (Maw-Maw) to her hair appointment, and also take her around town to run various errands for her. She likes to get lunch when we are in town. Yesterday she wanted Popeye's. She's 87, so I didn't want to go "NO! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT'S GONNA BE LIKE FOR ME? IT'S GOING TO SUCK SO MUCH!" so I obliged her request. For the entire ride home, I had to fight the urge to rip open her back of chicken and take a bite out of the leg. Seriously. I had delusions of pieces of tasty chicken eating other pieces of tasty chicken covered in gravy. I think I started developing an twitch. When we got home, I had to carry it into the house for her (along with her purse, but never mind that).

I threw the bag on the counter and immediately started preparing my boneless, skinless chicken breast for grilling. Little black pepper, white pepper, Tony's, garlic powder and into the Foreman Grill it went.

Best. Chicken. Ever.

But, I must confess. I'm only human.

She gave me her biscuit. She didn't want it. I took it.

It was delicious. And awful.

Did you know that Popeye's biscuits have 250 calories in them? I do now. That one freaking biscuit had more calories in it than my breakfast that morning. I won't be doing that again. I needed a reminder, apparently, that you pay for what you put into your body. I had a lapse, a momentary loss of sanity. It shan't occur again!

So, is what I'm going through similar to cigarette withdrawal? If so, all you quitters out there have my respect. You guys rock.

Today's moral? Forgive me, for I have sinned. My penance? DANCE!

Until next time, dragon slayers.

Dancing In A Muggy Warehouse or You Don't Always Have To Go To The Gym

I'm tired, I'm sweaty and I smell like the devil's armpit.

"Body Pump?", you ask?

"No.", I reply. "Choreography."

For those of you unaware, I am currently involved in the Acadiana Repertory Theatre's first show in their "ART After Dark" series, a play entitled NightFears. It's a really neat play, kind of weird and esoteric, a type of show that I've never really done before. It's very lyrical and dreamlike, and there's dancing.

Yep. The dancing that you do with your feet and legs. The dancing that requires rhythm and coordination. Not my strongest skill set. We did a read-through of the play tonight, followed by our intro the the choreography of the show.

Our Choreographer is a sweet young lady named Stacey, and tonight she showed us the basic steps that we will be going through for different scenes. It wasn't very intense, but we are going to be performing this show in an old warehouse in downtown Lafayette. It was hot and muggy. I felt like a tool when I was trying to do what Stacey was showing us, but she said we all did well (I hope that included me). It will be interesting to see how my (slowly) increasing level of fitness impacts my ability to feel comfortable while dancing. Tonight I felt weird and out of place.

In other news, because of the sheer volume of rehearsals we have for this show, I will be unable to go to the gym in the afternoons. That means I'm going to have to get up reaaaly early in the mornings to make it to my Body Pump classes. This will be the real test of my devotion. I hate getting up super early for anything, and most AM Body Pump classes start at 5:30. IN THE MORNING.

Le Sigh.

In other, other news, I'm still going strong with my dietary goals. I'm starting to miss fast food less and less, but I still sometimes have to resist the urge to cross traffic, pull into a McDonald's and order a mess of chicken nuggets. More on that in another blog, however.

So the moral of this post? If you can't stand the heat in the muggy warehouse during choreography rehearsal, maybe you shouldn't wear jeans. Or clothes. But that would just be obscene.

Now I'm going to take a shower.

Until next time, dragon slayers.

It's Been A Successful Weekend

Hey everyone. Sorry for the lack of updates these past couple of days. Friday my internet was buggy and yesterday was a bit crazy. I've had a good weekend though, hanging out with Jeff and Summer, and seeing the strides that Jeff is making in his weight loss management has been super cool.

On Saturday I walked into my brother's house, and the remnants of a birthday party abounded. Chocolate cake, pizza and donuts abounded. I quickly fended off the advance of Bad Decision Casey by eating a blueberry Special K Bar. I got to go swimming with my brother's bunch, my brother from another mother and his little girl. Later, my bro cooked up some grilled chicken breasts, corn and baked beans. A good time was had by all. After dinner, I said my goodbyes and proceeded to hang with Jeff and Summer, we went down to The Sports Pit and rocked people's faces off with our karaoke. And then...

It was like two AM and we were really hungry. We tried to go to KD's, a local diner with some healthy menu options, but there was no way we were getting in there, as it was far too busy and far too small of a building for all of us late nighters to get in. So, we had to go with our other option, IHOP.

It is possible to eat healthy-ish at two AM at an IHOP. I got some Rosemary Chicken. It was quite good.

Today, we hung out, went to the movies (Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World is FANTASTIC), and got an unintended bit of exercise when we discovered that after the movie, the mall's main doors were closed, and we had to walk around the perimeter of the entire mall in the heat in order to get back to the truck. We got home, Jeff made an excellent grilled chicken salad, and we're all now here sitting around visiting and posting in our blogs. (At least, I'm posting in mine.)

So, fellow dragon slayers, it's been a good weekend. The moral for the past couple of days: It's good to have folks around who are willing to go the distance with you.

As an added bonus, I've inspired my first person! My brother, Corey has decided to go get on the treadmill and lift weights every day in order to lose some "I quit smoking" weight. Good job brother, love ya!

Until next time dragon slayers. Until next time.

Not much going on today

Hey everyone, this will be a short entry. Not much of note happened today, but I still want to keep in the habit of posting every day. I did have one major triumph today, however. I managed to do a solid 30 minutes on a bike without stopping. Considering I could do barely 10 just a week ago, I was quite proud of myself.

I'm completely over the "finding out my weight" thing, it took all day yesterday and a good portion of today, but I think I've managed to get it out of the forefront, and get back to business as usual. Thanks again to everyone who supported me in that venture.

Hmm, today's moral? I suppose it could be "celebrate your victories, even the small ones". Not too much to go on.

I see I've ballooned to eleven readers this week, including my friend and fellow Flogging Molly concert goer, The Bear Monk. Glad to see you here, sir.

Well, I suppose that's all I've got for this evening. Hopefully I'll be a little more inspired tomorrow. Tomorrow is Body Pump again if I can get home from my Lafayette meeting in time, and I'll be in Lake Charles this weekend, so I'll probably work out at the gym on Saturday before I head to LC. Sunday..I'm sure I'll think of something as far as exercise goes. Me, my hetero-lifemate Jeff and his lovely girlfriend Summer are going to go check out Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World. It should be great.

Until tomorrow everyone, take care of yourselves.

I'm sorry nurse, I weigh how much? or ARRRGHHH!

Well, I did it. I slayed a dragon. A pretty big dragon, as far as dragons go.

But I got a little singed in the process.

Fairly early this morning I get to the doctor's office that I had mentioned yesterday, find a parking space, and walk quite a long way into the medical plaza. I take an elevator up to the second floor, find the office amid myriad other offices, and speak to the receptionist. She tells me that she'd be more than happy to let me use their scale, and would I mind waiting for a minute. I waited for several. After a while, a nurse comes into the room and whisks me to the back of the office and puts me on...a regular manual scale. They only go to 350. This is why I was seeking out this particular office, because supposedly they had a scale that could go higher. I mentioned this to the nurse and she informs me that the digital scale no longer works.

Perfect.

Not k nowing what to do, I worked for a little while in that town, then decided to look up weight management clinics. I figure if anyone would have a scale to fit a Chunky White Guy, it would be them. I found one a couple of towns over, drove out there, worked for a while then decided to pay the weight management clinic a visit. I tell the receptionist what's going on, and she says I can use their electronic fancy schmancy BMI scale for five dollars. Way to take advantage of a fat man in need. I agree to the fee, fill out some information for them to put in the scale, and wait in the lobby for another nurse. All this time, I am just dreading stepping on the thing. After what seems like an eternity, a friendly nurse escorts me back to her office, instructs me to take off my shoes and socks and climb aboard this big white scale. I close my eyes and wait for the outcome.

Nothing happens.

The kind nurse instructs me to step off, then step on again. I close my eyes and wait for the outcome.

Nothing happens again.

She assures me that the scale must be malfunctioning and has me go to another room with another, less fancy scale. I climb on board, and this time I don't close my eyes. I wish I would have.

4.5.0.

Yikes. Nowhere ever in my wildest dream did I ever think I weighed that much. I was shell shocked. I sat in a chair while I put my socks and shoes on, and the nurse invited me to become a member of their clinic. I told her "no thanks for right now, but maybe some other time", I took some literature that they gave me and went to the pay window. There was no charge because "the scale didn't work". I must have looked really, really sad.

I went out to my truck and immediately all the thoughts that I knew I would have started poking around in my head: "lazy", "failure", "fat", "sloppy". All of em and more. I tried to keep in mind that I was changing my lifestyle, but nothing was making it better, so I did what every grown man does in a time of difficulty.

I called my mother.

I told her what was going on, she said she figured that I weighed more than I thought I did. She had guessed 435. I wish she had been right. We talked for a long time, and as usual, she made me feel better. I then got a facebook message from my "invisible friend" who has been supporting me since I started this venture. She made me feel better, and I went about the rest of my day.

It's so easy for things to get away from us. Money, relationships, weight, or just life in general. If you're not on top of your game, taking absolute care of certain things, disaster can and will hit. This feels like a mini disaster to me, but as my invisible friend put it, "it's just a number, it's not you. And there's nothing you can do about it besides what you're already doing".

So what did I do?

I went to Body Pump today at 5:30, got in the room with all the ladies (and one other dude, the husband of one of the ladies) and worked my butt off. My chest and arms hurt like hell, but I was able to do more today than I did on Monday. Progress. All I can do is try to make progress. This is a marathon, not a sprint. I just have to tuck my chin in, take a deep breath and keep running. Keep running and not look back at the past, but with my eyes straight ahead staring at the future, a healthier, awesomer me.

I couldn't have done this today without all of your help. My faithful few readers and responders really helped me yesterday. I felt all of you pushing me into that doctor's office this morning, and it felt good to know you all were behind me. It still feels good. So I dedicate the moral of today's blog to you all (and my invisible pal):

When you're going off to slay a dragon, you'd best bring some friends with you. You never know when you'll need help.

Thanks, fellow dragon slayers. You guys complete me.

Bawk Bawk Bawk Bawk Bawk

I was hesitant in posting this entry tonight, because thus far I've been able to celebrate my victories for the past week. I can do no such thing today. However, in order to be intellectually honest to myself and to anyone who might stumble across my musings, I have to post my failures as well as my successes.

I'm a chicken.

Bawk. Bawk. Bawk.

I mentioned yesterday that I was going to go get my weight checked out today, and I had full intentions of doing so. Yesterday. Today, I pulled up to the doctor's office, stared at the building for a while, then drove away. I told myself that I was going to come back later in the day when they weren't so busy, but I knew deep down that I had chickened out.

Bawk. Bawk. Bawk.

I'm afraid. I'm afraid to hear a number. I'm afraid that the number will start with a "4". I'm afraid to have to face the stark, cold reality of what I've done to myself over the years. I know I'm taking steps to change, and I feel really good about myself for taking those steps, and I'm afraid that hearing that little three digit number will set me back and make me feel bad again. I'm afraid that the not so old me will hear that number and decide that it's not worth it. I'm afraid of Bad Decision Casey showing up and throwing a wrench into this whole plan.

Bawk. Bawk. Bawk.

One of the whole points of this blog is that I have a pretty acute sense of self awareness, and I want to use that as a tool to help myself and others. In this case though, my self awareness is not an asset. I know how I react to bad news, and I know the feeling of worthlessness that I get whenever I feel like I've let myself or someone else down. I know where that path goes, and I want more than anything to not go down that path.

Bawk. Bawk. Bawk.

It's weird. I'm not afraid of much. I consider myself a pretty brave guy, and I have no problem standing up for myself or my beliefs. But I'm afraid of a number. A silly little number. I think it's because you can't argue with a number. Numbers are cold. They are hard. And they are real. If that number is out of the range that I think it's in, there will be cold, empirical data representing my failure pre-lifestyle change. I should have gotten that number before I started. I don't think I would have been afraid to learn it then. Now it seems like it's going to be a step backward.

Maybe I'm being silly. I don't know. This is just how I feel at this point. Do I really need to find out, or can I measure my successes in inches lost, range of motion, cardiovascular fitness and general feeling of well-being?

Or...

Do I HAVE to do this. Is this a hurdle I need to jump in my journey in order to proceed forward? I feel like it is. I feel like I need to know where I'm starting from so that I can have a better road map to where I'm going. I want to. I need to.

I'm just not sure if I can.

So what's today's moral? Momma said there'd be days like this, there'd be days like this Momma said. Also in the words of Scarlett O'Hara: Tomorrow is another day.

Let's see what tomorrow brings. Perhaps tomorrow I can slay this dragon. There's always hope.

My First Day Of Body Pump, or: ARRRGGHHH!

Ow.

Ow ow.

Ow.

Man oh man did I get a butt kicking today.

Today was the first day of going to an exercise class known as Body Pump. For those of you not in the know, it's a combination of cardio aerobics and weight lifting set to music. The classes are an hour long, and during that hour you begin to have a slight smidgeon of an idea of what hell is like. You start to really appreciate the idea of damnation. We did lunges, squats, bench presses, push ups, crunches, dead lifts and a multitude of other exercises with and without the barbell.

Did I mention I was the only dude in the class?

Yeah. My dignity took a slight punch when I saw girls smaller than my legs lifting more weight than me, and who had better form on their push ups. The instructor was super cool, however and was patient in explaining what to do, so I'd have good form and not hurt myself.

It was intense. More intense than I remember from way back in 2006. Right now my legs are shaky, my arms are kinda trembly and I am not looking forward to the soreness which I will be experiencing tomorrow.

But...

I feel GOOD. Really good. I know the work I put in today was the next step in my journey and that combined with regular cardio work, I am going to get to where I need to be. It's amazing to me that something which hurts so much can make you feel like a million bucks afterwords. Wednesday, it will be one week that I've been working out, and I absolutely love it. My whole day revolves around going to the gym when I get off work. I look forward to it, I crave the feeling I get knowing that I'm doing something for myself that no one else could do for me. I am resolute, and I am strong, and I am sore. So sore. But happy. I'm actually looking forward to my next Body Pump class, which will probably be Wednesday. I want to go back in there, pick up that freaking dumbbell and own that workout. It probably won't happen this week or next, but I will master this class. I will be the Body Pumpingest sonofagun you've ever seen. I'll look back at this blog post and laugh in the face of my ancient soreness, and I'll rest comfortably in the fact that I achieved my goals.

What's the moral of today's story? Some say pain is weakness leaving the body. I say pain is pretty much just pain, but you don't have to be a sissy about it.


Now, as promised, I here is the recipe for those delicious little pumpkin carrot loaves that Julie prepared this past weekend. This is actually a muffin recipe, but you can put the batter into small bread loaves if you so desire. They are quite tasty.


1 cup pumpkin (I've only been able to find it at Super 1 year round)
2/3 cup brown sugar
4 tbsp oil (while extra virgin olive oil is healthiest, canola bakes better)
2 eggs, beaten
1 cup grated carrots (I chop mine in a small electric chopper)
1 ½ cups whole wheat flour
½ tsp salt
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp baking soda
2 tsp baking powder

Beat together pumpkin, brown sugar, oil and egg.

Add in carrots.

In a separate bowl, blend together flour, salt, soda, baking powder and cinnamon. Add to the pumpkin mixture.

Fill muffin tins about 2/3 full.

Bake at 375 degrees for 10-14 minutes.


That's it for tonight everyone. Tomorrow should be interesting, because I'm going to go visit the office of the doctor that my pal Jeff visited so I can see if they'll let me borrow their scale. I want to know just where I stand as far as my weight goes. I'm kinda scared. I'll let you all know what happens.

Until then, stay safe, stay happy, and be nice to each other.