Motivation and the lack thereof.

My great buddy Jerry just posted a “confessional” about losing his motivation and how he was defeating himself.

I chronicled my weight loss progress a while back, and I’ve mostly been stagnant since then. I haven’t cracked the 270 plateau, and it’s because of a few different things:

  1. I’ve always loved “summer food” — hot dogs, burgers, fries, onion rings — and I am consuming this shit food in my old habit of eating more than I should. Where one or two dogs would be more than enough, I’m going for three or four. I need to corral this.
  2. Along with eating too much summer food, I’ve gotten away from my grilled chicken, and white fish meals. Those were doing wonders for my progress.
  3. My working out has slowed a little. With the increase of my stamina, I’ve shortened my treadmill workouts to half an hour. I’m covering the same amount of virtual ground, in less time. I do this mix of walking on various inclines and jogging three days a week, and intersperse dumbbell workouts on my arms/shoulders on the off days.

    I need to experiment with more cardiovascular exercise. I think the big hang up is that I’m still fat, and my shins are really taking a beating from the impact of my fat ass jogging on them. The day off in between doing the jogs really helps with my recovery. What a conundrum.

I’ve been too comfortable with the progress I have made, and I haven’t really striven for more. Like Jerry, I’ve sunk into the rut of not controlling my food intake. I just figure, “whatever, it’s not that bad, and I’ve already done worse today,” and it spirals out of control.

I need to focus more than ever, because I’ll be going to a lot of baseball games soon. The ease of the junk food there, and sitting around for three hours a night are really going to put a damper on my plans.

Being a fat guy for as long as I’ve been one, I completely understand how easy it is to just be complacent. It’s extremely difficult countering a life time of stomach-muscle-memory. “Fuck it, we’ll start over tomorrow,” I say as I grab a box of Triscuits to munch on. “We’ll just jog a little longer later,” as I eat half of the box…

Yeah, I do the crazy Venom thing, were I call myself “we” in my head. No idea why, maybe it’s because of Venom. It’s time to zero in on my behavior and get back to work.

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Keith

I am Keith J. Frank, an overweight, acerbic, narcissistic, and sometimes lovable asshole that was born in June of 1983.

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