Dan Nied’s 100 Days is the chronicle of one man’s quest to improve his health in 100 days. Feel free to email him at email@example.com with any questions or comments you might have
Hey everyone. It is extremely late and I gotta get to bed. A rash of phone calls from long lost friends who are not named Ian — “I’m a stupid motherfucker who doesn’t tell his best friends when my first child is born” — Ryde. (I will explain that reference sometime this week.) So because of the late hour, this is going to be short.
Because of my irrational fear that I was losing weight too quickly, I decided to relax a bit this weekend. Saturday, I basically got drunk while watching the NFL draft. I know, I said I never drink alone, but something inside me made me want to get hammered on Saturday afternoon. It’s been a long while since I had a good afternoon buzz and I think every once in awhile you need that.
Moderation is a topic I need to discuss at length sometime. Not surprisingly, my weekend relaxation led to some serious stomach pains. Apparently I am still too fucking dumb to avoid them. I really need to smarten up. Right now, I am really afraid of what will happen when I get down to 270. I went from one extreme (uncontrollable binging) to another (eating nearly nothing at all) overnight. Once I hit 270, I won’t have to eat 1,500 calories per day. But I obviously can’t go back to eating like I did before. So how do I find the happy medium? Goddammit, this is some hard shit. I have no clue what foods to add to my diet once this is all done. I need to take a long walk around evil Wal-Mart and figure out what would be good and what would be bad.
Lifestyle change. That’s what this is. I have to remember that I am no longer the almost-morbidly-obese fat turd I was when I started this. I have to turn myself into the guy that doesn’t look forward to eating a whole pizza every night.
How is it possible that the transition phase of this diet is actually going to be harder than the diet itself? It does seem like this diet mirrors the Iraq war in that sense. The insurgents are rumbling in my stomach and mind, fighting to return things to the way they were before.
I need to send more troops, but I don’t really know how to apply that metaphor. I can’t pull out now. I must stay the course and continue gathering intelligence that will help my army topple the guerilla warriors ambushing my insides.
Damn. Just when I thought the end was near, another problem shows itself. Fucking weight loss. You suck.