Baby Boomer Kicks Ass

Hey fellow and wannabe L-Wackos,

Guess who made weight a few days ago. Yup, yours truly. So now you can call me Sir L-Wacko, or just Wacko for short, or just Sir if you prefer. And don’t forget, where there’s a Will, there’s a ner. Think I might be a bit punch drunk? I’m not. This is just my brain on eggs:

Okay, so most of this post is going to be totally irrelevant to L-Wackos who don’t wait until the last week to make their target weight. Also, it really has very little to do with the long term L-Wacko objective which is to get down to a healthy weight and stay there. My weight-loss/maintenance strategy is to make a target weight at least once a year without fail (and if I were to fail, the penalty is so unthinkable that I am able to apply my willpower to lose the requisite weight to make my target, which I have now done for 8 years running). The reason I like my particular weight-loss regimen, which is pretty much eat what I want for 10 months a year and then drop however much weight I must in order to hit my target weight) is that setting a target weight and knowing I must hit it by a certain date, keeps me from getting too fat during the year.

Okay, back to expounding on my final push. This year, I came in 1.8 lbs. under my target weight of 172 (that’s 170.2 for the math-challenged among you: target weight = 172; weigh-in weight = 170.2; 172 – 1.8 = 170.2). Unfortunately, most of that underage is water weight. You see, I weighed 173.2 at 2 PM on the day I made weight (1.2 over my target weight: 173.2 – 172 = 1.2) and I figured it was going to take about 2.5 days for me to lose 1.2 pounds if I semi-fasted (500 calories per day) without any workouts (I don’t do much traditional exercise — mostly yard work and walks). So, I figured instead, I would go out and do some yard work, lose about 1.5 lbs. (including water weight) and then I could make weight with a week to spare. But then I said to myself, “Mike, what if you go out and do some yard work, but still don’t make weight. Then you’re going to have to go to bed hungry and make weight tomorrow morning.” Yes, that’s how I talk to myself (not really — I’m usually more complimentary – “Mike, you stud, if you go out …”)

Just to make sure I would hit my target weight, I put on a rubber suit. If you have never worn a rubber suit while working out, it’s like exercising in a sauna, except your head doesn’t feel as hot. I must tell you, after about an hour of yard work in the sweltering heat, I was feeling weak. I had to take a lot of deep-breathing breaks because I was really taxing my body. But even while I was taking a break, I was sweating. When I finished, I rung out my t-shirt and shorts, jumped in the lake for an unbelievably refreshing dip (Indian Lake in R.I.) and checked my weight. And the rest, as they say, is history. And now for another math lesson – I ended up losing 3 pounds (173.2 – 170.2 = 3).

So, Scott (my L-Wacko partner for the past 8-years), I know you’re disappointed that I won’t be your slave for a day (that would have been my penalty if I did not make weight). You’re going to have to pour your own drinks, make your own sandwiches, clean your own boat, etc. But I will do one thing for you… you can have the “Before” and “After” pictures I took of myself so you can display them prominently in your office. I know, I know. You’re speechless. But that’s just the kind of guy Mike is.

Congrats again to everyone who made their weight, and to those who haven’t — better luck next year. FYI, my semi-break-fast meal was a house salad, chicken marsala with mashed potatoes and an awesome brownie for dessert from Carrabbas. Actually, my stomach has shrunken, so I could only eat half the meal (which means I get to have it again tomorrow — yay!).

P.S. – Though I am not going to commit to any penalty for failing, I would like to hit 167 by the end of August. I just don’t know if I can make it without a looming penalty. Only time will tell.

Sir Wacko… Out

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