Food for Thought

I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about food lately. Not eating it. Just thinking about it.

Since I’ve been in a weight-loss competition for the last few weeks, almost EVERYTHING is off my diet…. and it sure looks good!!!

For those who have not been keeping up, there are 17 of us Blubber Boys who are engaged in a 3-month competition, and each of us has put $100 in the pot as an incentive.

The winner(s) gets the money. I’m planning on that being me.

In the meantime, however, I’m getting hungry.

It doesn’t help any that my friends… excuse me, former friends… seem to take great joy taunting me with jelly donuts and the like… just to add to my misery. I expected words of encouragement, and instead, I get taunts and jeers.

“Hey, Rod-Boy…. Would you like a slice of steaming hot PIZZZZZAAAA?! Yummmm.”

I’ve also gotten a lot of emails concerning my quest for a sub-40 inch belt-size, mostly because these people don’t have time to taunt and jeer in person.

A few readers have actually tried to offer helpful advice, such as Chris Carney, himself a successful dieter, who gave us a few pointers on how to make it happen. But not before zapping us with this observation:

“It was such a glorious irony to hear that your newly found club-for-dieters held it's initial meeting at a restaurant,” he wrote. “Of all places...not a public park or an exercise facility, but a restaurant.”

Then there were other who passed along their attempts at humor via the electric email.

Steve Jarrell told us of a medical study he had recently come across, which reached the following observations and conclusions:

1. Japanese eat very little fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

2. Mexicans eat a lot of fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

3. Africans drink very little red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

4. Italians drink excessive amounts of red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

5. Germans drink a lot of beer and eat lots of sausages and fats and suffer fewer heart attacks than the Americans.

CONCLUSION: Eat and drink what you like. Speaking English is apparently what kills you.

An E. Shealy in Lexington passed along this exercise plan which seems promising.

It’s called “Exercise for Older Adults”:

Begin by standing on a comfortable surface, where you have plenty of room at each side. With a 5-lb potato sack in each hand, extend your arms straight out from your sides and hold them there as long as you can. Try to reach a full minute, and then relax. Each day, you'll find that you can hold this position for just a bit longer. After a couple of weeks, move up to 10-lb potato sacks. Then try 50-lb potato sacks and then eventually try to get to where you can lift a 100-lb potato sack in each hand and hold your arms straight for more than a full minute. (I'm at this level.) After you feel confident at that level, put a potato in each of the sacks.

Thanks, Mom.

Then there were a couple of other weight loss and fitness tales emailed (which I will protect the identity of the senders to protect them from being locked up for “No Sense of Humor Whatsoever”.)

A woman walked up to a little old man rocking in a chair on his porch. "I couldn't help noticing how happy you look," she said. "What's your secret for a long happy life?"

"I smoke three packs of cigarettes a day," he said. "I also drink a case of whiskey a week, eat fatty foods, and never exercise."

"That's amazing," the woman said. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-six," he said.

And then there was this little weight loss humor, which frankly, seems a lot more like a blonde joke to me:

A blonde is terribly overweight, so her doctor puts her on a diet. "I want you to eat regularly for two days, then skip a day, and repeat this procedure for two weeks. The next time I see you, you'll have lost at least five pounds."

When the blonde returns, she's lost nearly 20 pounds. "Why, that's amazing!" the doctor says. "Did you follow my instructions?"

The blonde nods. "I'll tell you, though, I thought I was going to drop dead that third day.”

"From hunger, you mean?" asked the doctor.

"No, from skipping."

And, finally, there was this “humorous” offering from a wiseacre who I frankly think went too far. He went beyond weight loss humor into medical humor, and I’m not sure if he was sending me a message or not:

A patient is at the doctor’s office to get results from recent tests. The doctor walks in and says, “I’ve got some good news and some bad news”.

The patient replies, “Give me the good news first.”

The doctor says, “They’re going to name a disease after you.”

So thanks to all of my former friends for the encouragement during my weight loss competition. (Not you, Mom.)

And now, readers, I’ve got some good news and some bad news: I’ll be back with another column next week. (And I’ll leave you to figure out whether that’s the4 good news or the bad news.)