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Staying Hungry When Your Life is Full
I weighed in this morning at 224.5 lbs. It’s the heaviest I’ve been since I lost the sympathy weight after our first child was born.
Last time, my heft resulted from a back injury, lots of business travel, and the cupcakes my pregnant wife would bring to the office. I was pudgy — like Ned Beatty in Deliverance soft. (And we know what happened to him.) I’m much stronger now, but the scale reveals the inconvenient truth that my biceps, triceps, and glutes are Wagyu-caliber marbled.
It’s all diet, and I know it. I work out with a trainer on Mondays and Thursdays and I walk at least 15 miles per week. But what, when, and how I eat breaks all the rules. Oddly, it’s me living my dream that causes this fitness challenge.
If you work a 9:00–5:00 job, you can mostly digest your dinner before you nestle down. But my schedule is staggered five hours to the right. To even stay awake for comedy shows past 10:00 p.m., I drink a cup of coffee at 3:00 in the afternoon. After the show, I’m totally wired and nowhere near ready for bed. When I get home, there’s a pan of brownies on the counter, leftover pot pie in the fridge, and an open bottle of red wine begging me to finish it off. Who am I to resist?
So I jam 1,200 calories down my gullet at 11:30 p.m. then watch Golf Central and fall asleep on the couch. An hour…
