EIGHT - 03/23/02

Favorite thoughts about running.

There was time when I did not care to run. In fact, there was a time when running sickened me. When would running, my favorite pastime, have sickened me? How about when I was a disgusting fat person? When I was a disgusting fat person, running sickened me – naturally. I got it in my head, as a disgusting fat person, that if I was a football player – a lineman – that I would get more muscular and less fat and disgusting through training to be a football player. I began lifting weights in the spring of my freshman year with the hopes of playing on the football squad the following fall. I got fatter and stronger. During the summer, the football squad began conditioning in earnest for the upcoming season. The conditioning involved mostly running. Because I was a disgusting fat person, running sickened me. I began to formulate a plot to get out of playing on the football team and, thusly, ending the unpleasantness associated with running. Before I could get up the courage to quit, I had to run. Because I was one of the top two fattest football players, I was always one of the last two people to finish whatever running exercise the team was performing. The other fat guy, who will remain nameless for the purposes of broadcast, was older than me, a veteran football player and friends with the popular guys on the team. While we were the last ones running, the other football players would root for this unnamed fat football player to not finish last and beat me. They would cheer for the older fat football player and I would always, no matter how hard I tried to beat the older fat football player, lose. I was always last at football practice. I eventually got out of playing football when I told my mother that I was thinking about jumping in front of a car on my paper route to get out of playing. She helped me quit. I hated running when I was a disgusting fat person.

When I first started running around the Garfield Reservation, I was a lousy runner. I sucked. I was still fat and I had a hard time finishing the course – normally walking the last half-mile after running up the hill from Broadway. I would try to stay pumped up but most of the time I would have to stop. Give me a break. I was a horrible fat person. On the times I was able to keep it going, I thought about the older fat football player and the other guys on the team pulling for him to keep me going. I would tell myself that I would not let that guy beat me again. Ever. It is fifteen years later – almost half my life. I still imagine that guy beating me to keep me going.

Yes, I am a horrible fat person.

Lbs. = 205
Eaten = cereal and milk, banana, chicken noodle soup, pretzels, pickle, English muffin and an orange
Push ups = 100
Crunches = 300
Walk = two and a half miles

posted by Thea at 7:13 PM

NINE – 03/22/02

I love to run, Ernie. It makes me feel good.

I started running over a decade ago. I was living with my parents. I wanted to lose more weight than I had on the starvation mixed with over the counter diet pill diet but I was burned out on not eating. One night, while strolling though the Garfield Reservation (invented by Thea’s uncle Emerald), I began running. For no reason other than it seemed like a way to drop more pounds, I ran. I ran every night after dark. I remember running through sprained ankles and other pain. I remember eating like a horse and still dropping pounds. I love that about running. I remember exercising many of my inner demons out of my system while trucking around the park. I made me feel better, Ernie. It made me feel good.

I quit running when I moved out of my parent’s place and did not run again until a couple of month before my wedding. I started running the second time because I was overcome with a case of the nerves and I could not drink or smoke them away like I did in the past because I had just quit both of those wonderfully therapeutic pastimes during another program of self betterment. I must get better. I have a hard time sitting still. You can’t sit still and run at the same time.

I am about to start running again. I like the physical benefits that come with running. Given. But I benefit from the mental health improvements much more. Running clears the soul. It empties all of the bullshit out of my system like pulling the plug in the bathroom tub and watching all of that dirty water go down the drain. I get it all out while running. If I run in the morning, I am able to think about what I am going to do with the day and, if I run at night, I am able to erase all of the scribbling on the chalk board of my mind.

Who would have guessed that I need so much mental maintenance? I really need a lot of help to get me through the days. I don’t know why. I am just pretty damned unhappy when I start thinking about it all too much. That is why I have to structure all of my time so it is accounted for. I don’t need any time to myself. If I get bored, I go for the knife.

I stopped running this past fall when, I think, I broke my toe. I have hurt myself so many times while I have been running that it is hard for me to tell what exactly happened that got me off the streets. I remember, and this is just a couple of months ago (What is going on with my head?), a bad pain in my foot - so bad that I had to stop running. The pain was real bad. And now it is gone. It is time for me to hit the trail again.

More on the psychotics of running tomorrow.

Yes, I am a horrible fat person.

Lbs = 205
Eaten = bagel and cream cheese, banana, yogurt, apple, orange, oatmeal, power bar, salsa salad
Push ups = 100
Crunches = 300
Walk = two miles


posted by Thea at 7:07 AM

TEN - 03/21/02

The countdown to Easter has begun.

The diet is a process. It is a process that needs to be set in stone if you want to get any results. It is also a process that you are going to need to experiment with see what works for you. It took me ten years of dieting before I figured out the Sunday off routine. I don’t think I could diet now – not the willpower part because I am strong but I get too depressed not eating too easily – without the Sunday off. One of the other things that I am going to stick with for every weight loss diet for the rest of my life is the forty day thing. Sixty days is too long. I lost interest in the diet at around, oh, I don’t know, around the forty day mark. If you have been keeping score, I have been eating pretty much the same thing for the entire diet but now I am eating cereal and juice before bed almost very night now and my handful of pretzels have been getting bigger. It is not like I have been pigging out or eating cake filled pies or anything but my heart is not in it anymore. You want to feel victorious on a diet. The rush of weight loss is part of the fun. Enthusiasm is crucial. You don’t want to be walking around the office timidly stating that you won’t eat any of those donuts or holiday breads (I swear to God that somebody at the office is trying to sabotage me.) because you are on a diet. You want to feel pumped up and yell it in the fat people’s faces around you. No, I am not going to snack all day just like the rest of you. I am a dieting enthusiast. I have willpower.

So I am going to stick to forty day diets from now on. It is in the Bible. The Israelites roamed around the desert for forty years. Jesus fasted for forty days before getting it going. And I will only diet for forty day periods from now on. A diet is a learning experience.

I would like to think that I am not going to have to diet any more after this. I am pretty satisfied with what I have been eating and I am willing to eat the stuff for the rest of my life if necessary. My goal of weighing less than two hundred pounds is a life long goal that I have to approach as such. Now that I am thirty, it is really important for me not to get super fat like those aging rockers around me. I wonder how long, eating like I am doing now, it is going to take me to get down to 190? I am sure that it will happen, especially considering the new vegetarian life that I am planning. Vegetarian. What am I thinking? Does vegetarian really mean no sandwich meats? How much animal is actually in bologna? I have to think about this.

Tomorrow. Running. My second love.

Yes, I am a horrible fat person.

Lbs = 205
Eaten = banana, yogurt, apple, orange, oatmeal, power bar, chicken, salsa salad, dry cereal and a cup of orange juice
Push ups = 100
Crunches = 300
Walk = two miles



posted by Thea at 7:25 AM

Day 50 – 03/20/02

Yesterday was the first day since the start of the diet project that I was depressed like I was circa calendar year 2000 – the worst calendar year of my life. Actually, I take that back. Yesterday was actually more like calendar year 2001 – the second worst year of my life. I freaked out during calendar year 2000. I almost lost it. I think that it I ever was going to really going to analyze what happened to me in calendar year 2000 with any serious degree of reflection, I would come to the conclusion that I had a nervous breakdown. I think that I probably did have one but since I have no clinical background in not just nervous breakdowns but in breakdowns of any kind, I can’t make that call.

Calendar year 2001 was a year filled with depression, anxiety, doubt and, the most shamefully bothersome of all concerns, worry about money. I hate it when I worry about money because it is completely out of my control. No matter how much I save and budget, I am never going to be rich and whether or not I stress out about money each and every minute of my life, I am not going to be any better or worse off over any given couple year period of time. It really is worry without merit.

My wife and I are comfortably lower middle class. And I am pretty sure that we are always going to be that way no matter what we do – except have kids. That would probably mess us up financially pretty good. We have credit card debt that will paid off this year and then we have a series of larger projects around the house and purchases for the house to make to get to the level of comfort and material satisfaction that we want. Material satisfaction. That sounds so bullshit. Actually, we just want a dining room set and a new floor. Is that so wrong?

So I am stressing out about money last night for the first time this year. The funny thing is, it wasn’t like I magically became aware of all this debt that we were sitting on or just found out that we are flat broke. No, I just thought about the budget for calendar year 2002 that has already been in existence since last December. I thought about that and the long term budget that my wife and I set out upon when we leased the car. I was not stressing about new worries. I was just reminded of old issues and got worked up inside.

All of this money garbage really takes care of itself over time if you keep a conservative bank account, which we do. I just don’t want to think about it, which I won’t. Because there is really nothing that I can do about it, which I can’t. After all, if I am a great big fat person who is not in show business, no money in the world would make me happy. I just need to not think about it.

On the diet: Of course, there was a full chocolate cheese cake tort type thing in the office yesterday. I did not eat any, of course. Certainly, there are victories. But I did see some fellow office workers who complain about weight problems (of course) eat two pieces.

I need to focus on things that I can control – my weight. I need to forget about things that are out of my hands – my socioeconomic status.

Yes, I am a horrible fat person.

Lbs = 205
Eaten = yogurt, apple, orange, oatmeal, power bar, two veggie patties, handful of pretzels, salsa salad, dry cereal and cup of orange juice
Push ups = 100
Crunches = 300
Walk = two and a half miles


posted by Thea at 7:15 AM

Day 49 – 03/19/02

I need to divide my life up in small packages of time where I am doing one thing to give myself some focus. It puts the seemingly infinite commodity of time into manageable segments. I can’t think of my life as all of these years in front of me where I am going to do primarily the same thing every day no matter what day it is. I have to invent things to carve up that massive blank of time so I don’t freak out.

I am always giving myself projects to do around the house that need to be done by a certain date. Last summer, when I was painting the house by myself, I was not just some yutz who just worked in an office; I was a paint contractor. Last winter/spring, when I wrote the first book, I was not just some guy who rode the bus to work every day, I was a struggling writer on a deadline. Now, I a have been working on these dieting diaries pretty much daily in the morning and listening to old tapes of the Assholier than Thou Monday Morning Radio Show and clipping them into best of CDs the rest of the day. I am a radio show producer with a website. I am going to be done with all of the old shows on Saturday. I am going to have best of CDs from July 1999 to June 2001 made on Saturday. I am going to have all of the old show notes typed up and ready for the website on Saturday. And then what am I going to do with myself? OK. I am going to write another book this spring but then what? Yeah, I have to do a lot around the house over the summer but then what? Sure, I am installing a floor in my dining room and living room for Christmas but then what? But then what? But then what?

Do you see what I am doing with myself? I am so board with life that I give myself all of these otherwise regular projects but I put rigid time restraints on them to keep me moving. I will keep moving. But then what?

Yes, I am a horrible fat person.

Lbs = 205
Eaten = banana, yogurt, apple, orange, oatmeal, power bar, Salsa chicken and rice, dry cereal and a cup of orange juice
Push ups = 100
Crunches = 300
Walk = two miles

Day 48 – 03/18/02

I am exhausted today from my big rock and roll weekend. I am exhausted from being out too late last night. I am supposed to get to bed early on show nights. A brother like me needs his sleep.

I am still sick from the Puerto Rican flu that I received compliments of one of my many Puerto Rican relatives. I ate lunch with them in celebration of Santo Patricko’s Day. I made sure before I sat down at the table with them that nobody was sick. They all were sick but seemed to be getting over it. My body is not used to the powerful Puerto Rican flus. It is used to the good old fashioned Polish flus of my youth. I am still nauseous after all of these days and I am wondering if there is really going to be an end in sight.

I am back at work after a couple of days off. There is pizza in the office today – a couple of whole pizza and too many parts of pizzas. If I cared, I would ask one of my co-workers where this pizza came from. If I was a wimp, I would eat some of the pizza because I am hungry. Because I am strong, I looked at the pizzas a few times without ever taking a bite. Because I am dieting, I am not supposed to eat pizza. Because it is important to find dieting inspiration in the smallest situations or incidents, I am writing about this.

Yesterday’s East Side mini vacation made me think about what I am doing wrong with my life. Why does everything that I do that does not involve me riding the bus downtown to the office or going back home to work make me think about changing my life drastically? Am I so on the fence on how I live my life that a trip to the other side of town would cause me to doubt myself so completely? I picked up some East Side real estate books because now I am thinking about moving way over there. After such a pleasant experience at the Cedar Lee Theater, I am now lifting my ban on movie going. While eating at Tommy’s my wife and I decided to go vegetarian after Easter. That’s right. Vegetarian.

I don’t know how this is going to work but I am going to give it a try. This has been a long time in the making. Every meal that my wife make’s out of one of her fancy cookbooks, I usually love except for the fact that there is meat in it. Chicken is ruining my dining experience. We already don’t eat hardly any read meat in our regular day-to-day eating. Occasionally, if we are at a restaurant, I will get the hamburger. I can’t stand to eat any meat that is still on a bone or seems like flesh so that won’t be a problem. I think that my only issue is going to be non-meats like salami and pepperoni or old fashioned brats, hot dogs and Polish sausage. I am a big sandwich food/finger food guy and not having these might cause me issue. I know that I am not going to be able to go to my grandmother’s Independence, OH compound on Christmas Eve and not eat kraut, dumplings and sausage. That is a fact. But, otherwise, I think that this vegetarian thing might be fun. I am always looking for something in my life to break up the monotony.

Yes, I am a horrible fat person.

Lbs. = 205
Eaten = spinach linguini and vegetables, handful of sun chips, banana, dry cereal and a cup of orange juice
Push up = 100
Crunches = 300
Walk = two miles


posted by Thea at 7:22 AM

Day 47 – 03/17/02

“I love to drink, Ernie. It makes me feel good.”

I, nor anyone affiliated with the Assholier than Thou empire, will ever officially endorse a holiday where drunken shenanigans is the only reason that the holiday is celebrated. There has got to be more. I don’t want to hear about Irish heritage. There is not that many Irish people in this country.

Actually, I could care less about St. Patrick’s Day. And, if I was really going to think about it, I, and the entire Assholier Than thou empire, do, in fact endorse an event that’s cause de existence is reckless power drinking. It’s just that I can’t stand that parade. Next to Cleveland Indians opening day, St. Patrick’s Day brings the most amount of amateur drinking tourists into downtown Cleveland, OH. As somebody who roamed the streets of Cleveland, OH for my living for a decade, these people with the beer cans everywhere, out of control loudness and vomit, vomit vomit were an enormous pain in my ass. Thank God it’s on a Sunday this year.

Now that I have been thinking about it for a while, the Assholier than Thou empire does endorse events that sole purpose is reckless power drinking. I just hate tourists when I am trying to work. I am sorry for that mix up. Cleveland Browns tailgating will be the official show sponsored power drinking event since it happens on Sundays and I don’t have to go down to the municipal parking lots to enjoy the puking and barking. I can just imagine all the rowdy fun from my home. Still, Cleveland Indians opening day can always bite me.

How does beer drinking fit into my diet, you ask? Pretty good, I think.

If you want to drink beers on the diet, count calories. Say you are only going to eat a thousand or twelve hundred calories in a day, figure out how many light beers your are going to drink and eat accordingly. I think that you probably want to take some type of vitamin supplement because, technically, you will be starving yourself. I did the beer drinking calorie counting diet for a while with nice results. I must give propers to my mom’s friend from high school, Janice, who hipped me to the idea while happily announcing while passing on a cookie at work (she got me the job at the office – more big ups) that the cookie equals three beers and she was drinking that night. Beer will fill you up good. Beer kills hunger. Beer gets you loaded. Which, in turn, will make you forget about the fact that you are hungry. It is like a miracle.

The most painless 20 pounds that I ever lost (I don’t even remember trying or anything else for that matter) was after I moved out of my parent’s house. I must give thanks to the beer – Rolling Rock. I did not eat breakfast. Everyday for lunch, I ate huge from the microwave and fast food sections. And at night, I drank Rolling Rocks. I drank tons of coffee and coke throughout the day too. These are all the details that I can recall from this miracle diet. Everything from that period in my life is pretty foggy. Just remember, don’t eat too much and drink up.

Yes, I am a horrible fat person.

Lbs. = 205


posted by Thea at 9:02 AM