2000 Words Worth

They say a picture is worth 1000 words, so here is 2000 words worth, plus a short summary at the end...

My life now has improved beyond measure. I can do things I haven't been able to do for about 10 years, I feel better physically and mentally, and I no longer dismiss activities as being impossible because I'm so damn fat. My body functions normally. I have no foreign devices in my body, I do not require frequent doctor visits for adjustments, and I have no dietary restrictions.  I can eat anything I want, I just can't eat very much. I have found that eating healthy food makes me feel even better, and food with heavy doses of sugar or starch make me feel kinda crappy - just like before my surgery. The body still reacts like it used to. Good food is still good for me, bad food is still bad for me...

IF YOU ARE FAT, AND HAVE BEEN STRUGGLING WITH YOUR WEIGHT FOR MANY YEARS, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? A SIGN FROM GOD DELIVERED BY A BURNING BUSH? Consider me a smouldering shrub, then. You have a disease, and it will kill you. Seek help! The Vertical Sleeve Gastrectomy  is the sensible, logical choice for people who are severely over-weight (like YOU). Google it, find a specialist in your area, do some research, and get the help you need...you will have the same regrets I have - NONE!

http://www.yourbariatricsurgeryguide.com/gastric-sleeve/

Random Rant - Whatever Happened to Service Guys Actually Giving a Shit?

    It seems like the guys who fix things, maintain things, install things, and in general are supposed to know how to make things work, just don't give a rat's ass anymore. A few weeks ago, I took a rifle to a gunsmith/parts changer/ guy who hits shit with a hammer. There was a piece of a brass cartridge case stuck in the chamber, and I couldn't get it out. The rifle was pretty much worthless as it was, I couldn't fix it, so I assumed I would simply take it to an expert and pay too much to get it fixed, but the thing would actually work when I got it back. A few days later, I got a call, the rifle was ready, I could pick it up any time saturday. I grab some ammo and some targets, drive for about an hour, pay the "expert" for his services, and head for the range...where the rifle is completely locked up! I can't rack the cocking handle to load a cartridge, the bolt carrier assembly is totally jammed, the thing is completely non-functional. Understand, it was running fine when I last handled it. The problem was the empty cartridge case getting stuck, not the rifle itself. They got the brass out of the chamber, but when they reassembled the rifle, they didn't do a function check. A simple little procedure where you cock the weapon on an empty chamber and pull the trigger...do this 3 times, and you can be confident the stupid thing will function. You pay someone to be an expert, they do the job, but they don't take an extra 30 seconds to make sure it is working properly before they send it out the door.

    At my place of business, we recently had a very expensive, complex piece of equipment installed. It is composed of several modules of high-tech gear that are all supposed to work together and produce the results we need to stay in business. The manufacturer sent 2 modules that would not interface with the main module, and forgot to send a rather important special cable that allows a 3rd module to do what it needs to do, so the installation specialist left the site without testing the installation - he couldn't make sure it worked, because the factory had shipped the wrong gear. The repair guy came out, futzed around with the various parts and modules, and after about 4 days of screwing around, proclaimed it functional, and left without making sure the stupid system was working properly. We have had the thing for a month now, and I don't think it has worked yet - and it cost well over $100,000! The other repair guy is due tomorrow, we'll see what kind of job he does.

   It isn't just the high-tech guys, or the expert craftsmen types, who don't give a rat's ass anymore. It seems like NOBODY gives a crap. The custodial crew at my building works for a different contractor company than we work for, and I know they don't care worth a fart in a hurricane. The cleaning crews don't even bother showing up half the time, and they haven't actually cleaned any of the floors in two years - let me repeat that; they haven't actually cleaned any of the floors in TWO YEARS, including the bathroom floors! I have personally observed people leaving the bathrooms with such a pale, nauseated look on their faces, I thought they had the flu, or maybe food poisoning, but it was actually the smell of the room itself. The bathrooms smell like fermenting sewage! If you are foolish enough to look closely at the brownish-gray tiles and black grout, you will see that they are actually supposed to be blue, green, and white tiles, with pale sand-colored grout. You will also notice the furry texture of the tiles is due to funny little curly hairs that are stuck to the floor, just like your feet will stick when you walk on the tiles...no, I am not making this up. The problem is actually three problems rolled into one situation. ONE: The crews are not given mops, they are given cleaning pads, like big Swiffer pads, and a "special cleaning solution", and they are told that you don't need to scrub or rinse, just wipe the pad over the floor with the special cleaning solution, and the dirt and grime will magically dissolve into thin air! It'll be so clean, it will actually be sterile. You could perform open-heart surgery on those floors! TWO: The cleaning crews know that this is absolute bullshit, but they don't care, they are just following orders. They can smell the fermenting rat shit smell as well as anybody - they use those bathrooms, too. THREE: The supervisor in charge of the crews doesn't care, because his company has the contract, and it's damn near impossible to get fired from such a place, and he knows it. He doesn't need to check on his cleaning crews to make sure they have done their jobs - he knows they haven't, and he just doesn't care! He couldn't care less about the floors, cuz he gets paid one way or the other...The situation has gotten so bad, we actually clean the f***ing bathrooms ourselves, just so we won't have the overpowering urge to spew our lunch every time we take a whizz...God help the ladies, who actually have clothing touching those hideous floors while they sit doing their business. On those rare occasions where I am forced to drop my pants on the floor in there, I feel an overwhelming need and desire to go to the gym and take a long steamy shower...

The lack of care and concern in the service sector of our society is getting out of hand - I could go for the obvious bad play on words and say that the situation is really shitty, but that would be a gross understatement.

Folks, if you are gonna do a job, take the time and have enough personal pride to actually do the damn job, do it right, and make sure it is done correctly before you move on!

Merry Christmas, Everybody!

Wishing all of you all the best! I have a terrific Christmas present this year...I have lost 101 pounds, and I feel terrific! No more fat, crippled, and helpless...HO, HO, HO!

More details later...

The Six-Million Dollar Man...or Maybe Not.

   Remember Steve Austin? Remember the show's opening scenes? "We can rebuild him, we can make him stronger, faster, sexier, cheesier, and he'll smell like chocolate chip cookies!" OK, that wasn't exactly how it went, but close enough. For those who don't remember the show, Steve Austin was a test pilot/astronaut/door gunner on the space shuttle/whatever, who was in a bad crash, and the government decided to rebuild him with bionic implants. If you have never seen the show, rent it or look for it on those cable networks that specialize in 1970's cheese fests, drink several adult beverages, and enjoy the wholesome family goodness of bad sci/fi special effects and predictable, heart-warming plotlines...don't get me wrong - I loved it! Watched every episode at least once, making sound effects right along with the TV!

    Having taken a detour down Nostalgia Lane, I guess I need to come back to the present and talk about my own $6,000,000 project, except it is a lot less high-tech, and a lot more old-fashioned than Colonel Austin's reconstruction (it also wasn't funded with Taxpayer Dollars, dammit). About 4 months ago, I was a fat, waddling, shambling hulk of a miserable man, pathetic and in pain, and generally possessing a rather grumpy disposition. I walked with a cane and was severely limited in my mobility and activities, and popped a lot of pain pills, cuz I needed them. A very skilled doctor drugged the crap outta me and cut out a chunk of my guts; specifically, approximately 80 percent of my stomach...best thing that ever happened to me, health-wise! I have since lost about 95 pounds, and 10 inches around my waist. My diabetes is gone, my blood pressure has dropped, my sleep apnea has disappeared, I have tossed my cane in a corner, and now I can walk like a normal person...

    A few months ago, every normal, ordinary activity was an exercise in pain, the brute pain of simply moving my large carcass from point A to point B. There were so many things that were simply beyond my physical capacities that life really wasn't worth living any more. The only reason I stuck around was for my family, and because of the vague hope that maybe someday, something would happen to make things better. What eventually happened was so simple in concept, yet so profound in its effects, I only regret not doing it sooner...I lost several years of living to being a wretched fat bastard, and I can never get those years back. I can, however, make up for that lost time by becoming the best man I can be, physically and otherwise. Hence, the "Reconstruction" theme of this rambling dialogue. I am rebuilding myself physically, and the outer change is noticeable, according to friends and family. I also suspect that the inner change is also noticeable to those few who are paying attention. 

    I go to the gym at least 4 times a week, pumping iron and working the aerobic machines, walking on the treadmill, building muscle and endurance, getting stronger, tougher, leaner, harder, and becoming one sexy, awesome beast of a man!...Well, OK, let's not get carried away here. "Stronger, harder, more muscular, leaner" - all true. "Sexy, awesome beast of a man", maybe not, but here is the deep-down truth. I feel like a sexy, awesome beast of a man, even if I don't look like one. The difference in how I look has been described as "great", "incredible", "fantastic", etc, etc, blah, blah, blah (I actually look entirely ordinary and common-place)...I appreciate the kind words, and the outer change is pretty dramatic, but the real change is inside. It's how I feel as a man, a human, a living breathing animal of a being...I have not felt this alive in many years.

       A few days ago, I was at the gym, doing the weight machines and jogging on the treadmill, and I felt so damn good, I just went out the back door, paced off 40 yards in the grass, and started doing wind sprints - 40 yards as fast as my big, hairy self could run! I would dash, walk around in a circle for a few seconds catching my breath, then haul ass back the other way like a scalded chimpanzee. I'm sure I looked absurd, a 51 year old fat man running wind sprints, but I felt what can only be described as an animal joy at just running as fast as I could! I wanted to chase down a mailman and bite his leg, or go tearing off into the woods chasing rabbits and barking at squirrels...it was awesome! And now I'm limping, cuz I am experiencing a very curious physio-medical phenomenon; Too Much Too Soon Syndrome.

    TMTS syndrome happens when someone is suddenly released from a life of significant physical limitations, and finds themselves with a fierce desire to do everything they have been denied for so long, so they try to do it all, right-by-God-now! I want to go trail running, and sky diving, and bike riding, and hiking in the mountains, and...well, you get the idea. I want to do it all! Right now, dammit! But an honest assessment of my abilities tells me that I need to develop one other kind of strength that is in short supply - patience! I need to work up to all of these things a bit more gradually than I am attempting right now, or I may wind up doing myself some damage. The last damn thing I want is to have to dig that cane out of the corner just to walk from the parking lot to the office!

    On the other hand, I will be running in the Long Beach Jingle Bell Jog this coming Saturday, doing the One Mile Fun Run... I'm sure there will be a good deal of walking involved before I get to the finish line, and that'll be just fine with me!


4 months, 258 pounds, down from 351, on my way to 205 or so...

So, Things are settling into the New Normal State of Affairs...

approx 100 days after I got trimmed, 261 pounds, from 351, down 90 pounds, 56 pounds to go...

and things are starting to settle into a new routine. I go to the gym 3 or 4 times a week, working on strength training and running (yes, running!), and trying to get some flexibility and strength in my lower back. I have more than doubled my upper body strength, tightened my stomach muscles very nicely (still fat, but I can tell there is a big improvement), and made HUGE strides in my cardio health and endurance. I have all but given up on the elliptical trainer, as it just doesn't challenge me physically, so I have starting walk/jogging. That is basically jogging on a treadmill, with periods of walking thrown in to prevent massive coronary blowouts. Today, I walk/jogged to a small but important milestone - literally, one mile. I ran about 3/4 of it, and walked whenever my heart rate hit 140 or above. I would walk until the pump was doing about 110 BPM, then start running again. I kept a mental tally of how far I was walking, and it came to right at 1/4 mile - the rest was running, you do the math. My short term goal is to run a solid mile, at a steady pace, within 2 weeks, while getting below 250 in that same time frame. I'm not sure I can lose 11 pounds in 14 days, but I'm gonna try.

   My longer term goals involve this room;

(yes, those are bowling balls, but I'm not going bowling....)


and also this field;

That is the landing field at the drop zone in Lumberton...here is where all you Whuffos ask, "Drop zone? Chute? You mean, jump out of an AIRPLANE??" Yes, exactly...I have always wanted to, I have been doing some research, it is safer than the drive to the movie theater, and the dropzone in Lumberton happens to be one of the best in the whole world. Check it out, scroll about halfway down, and look for Gold Coast Skydivers...they are tied for first place in the rankings, worldwide. I spoke with them, hung out for a while, played with the dog (I don't think the dog actually jumps), and took a snapshot or 2. They seem like very nice people, very tolerant of stupid questions, and the chief rigger seems to REALLY know his stuff...I will absolutely be going back, as soon as I have shed some more tonnage and saved up some lunch money...I'm shooting for March, when the weather starts warming up.

I'm also shooting alot in this field;

That is the view looking over the top of a very old but still serviceable Soviet bolt-action rifle, looking downrange at the berm in Woolmarket, where I spend whatever spare time I have.

As my midsection gets smaller, my horizons seem to be getting bigger. I have plans now, things I have always wanted to do, but have never been able to pursue until now. Our time on this dirtball is limited, and we can live cautious, careful, safe lives, or we can bite off big chunks of life (and small nibbles of cheeseburgers), and really enjoy our time here...I know which option I prefer!

Geronimo!

BTW, the bowling balls are used as weights to hold the parachute pack steady while the rigger packs the chute...packing a parachute isn't really an activity with a whole lot of room for error, so you want to hold it down tight while you take care of business...

The Engine is Coming to Life...

Approximately 3 weeks after my surgery, I started working out in the gym...I was very weak, and had no stamina. I worked with the benchpress machine, pressing about 60 pounds...pretty pathetic! Now, after 6 weeks or so, I have made some pretty significant improvements in my routine...

I can now press more than double what I could press before, ...I can now press 200 pounds! I can *feel* the strength starting to stir, the power starting to flow. I am developing reserves of power that didn't exist before. I used to do 5 minutes on the elliptical trainer - now I hit the 30 minute time limit, so I have started jogging on a treadmill machine. I managed 400 meters today, a quarter mile! Not bad for a 52 year old fat bastard! I doesn't sound like a great distance, but keep in mind 2 things; the last time I ran was in boot camp 30 years ago, and 3 months ago I was walking with a cane ...I am starting to rebuild this wreck of a body and get it back in shape!

Next month, I will run a full mile, bench press 250 pounds, bike 5 miles, etc...always pushing, always growing stronger. I have been dead for far too long, but now, the machine is coming back to life.

The whole point of this post is to show that life after surgery doesn't stop after a loss of so many pounds...Life after surgery is only a beginning! I don't know about anybody else, but I consider my life after surgery to be a gift, and I have no intention of wasting that precious gift... I plan to enjoy life to the fullest!

Geronimo!

Before and After...

I promised you guys some before and after pics, so I rounded up some of the rather depressing pics of my former fat self, and got a few pics of my not-so-fat present self, and I'll just toss 'em up here for your amusement.....

Here I am, dwarfing the Space Shuttle...

At a pistol match a few years ago...

a fishing trip a couple summers ago. Luckily, there were no whalers around, or I might have been skewered with a harpoon.

Some fat bastard sat on my reading glasses...oh, wait, it was me!

Mugshot profile.

Mugshot straight view. (Note grumpy look on face.)

 and now a few of the new and improved (work in progress) me...note a somewhat more cheerful attitude. Obviously, I still have a lot of work to do, but the work is actually making a difference - I'm much stronger than I used to be, more flexible, in a lot less pain, able to work longer, lift more, do more, play harder, and actually enjoy life instead of just endure...

From a few weeks ago...

My best side...no pinching please, ladies! Well, OK, go ahead!

Mugshot profile...

Mugshot straight view.