by Brad Nelson 9/12/14
I thought it was time to make an official address on the #2 menace to society. (We all know who and what the #1 menace is.) I mean, of course, the Slobocracy.
I remain hovering around 193-195 pounds. It seems no matter how little I eat, I’m frozen in at that weight. And you know what? It’s all George Bush’s fault.
Well, being a conservative, I have to admit it’s all my fault. What I’ve discovered in this engagement with beating back the Slobocratic horde is that (wait for it)…as human beings, we do not have to eat all that darn much in order to survive and thrive.
I can eat three fairly modest meals a day with no snacks and still I stay where I am, losing not an ounce of weight. And I guess that is a type of success. We must take the good with the bad. It beats gaining weight. But I’d really like to slip down to 185, just as a goal. I don’t need to stay there (190 would be just fine). But just as a goal. But that goal is becoming difficult.
And you know why? It’s all the fault of my metabolism. (Which was probably engineered by Dick Cheney at Haliburton). My metabolism is so dumb (How dumb is it?) . . . my metabolism it so dumb that it can’t turn a jelly donut into a stalk of celery. Whatever the case may be, the important thing to know is that it’s not my fault.
Actually, a jelly donut, candy bar, or anything like that hasn’t passed my lips in a good long time (fig bars being my sin of choice). I have at least one crutch I can use, and it may be a mere rationalization, but it does contain an ounce or two of non-fat truth: Having hiked and pedaled like mad throughout the summer over hill and dale, I’ve probably put on a couple pounds at least in muscle, particular around the legs. And as they say, muscle is much denser and heaver than fat.
But that can’t explain everything. There’s still a notch on the belt I could tighten if push came to shove. The Slobocracy had been in retreat for a consistent month or two in early to mid summer. But like Napoleon approaching Moscow, the chill set in. The sheer size of the landscape can overcome you. It will be a tough battle, but we shall fight on the beaches, in the bar and grills, and in the fields of sweets. We shall never surrender.
Brad is editor and chief disorganizer of StubbornThings.
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