I tried, then slipped, then tried again, then slipped again. At least fifteen of the days since were spent on trips to three different cities—never a good thing for a diet. That said, on my last trip (just last week: hence the lack of posts), I really tried to eat light. For example, I’d order a side of potatoes or just toast for breakfast. Lunches would be small sandwiches and no chips. Dinners were (for the most part) equally austere. Sure, one or two meals were a little nicer than normal, but I really stuck at it; I really tried to prove to myself I wouldn’t let a little thing like business travel be an excuse to eat absolutely anything.

Got back and I weighed exactly what I weighed when I left. Granted, I wasn’t expecting miracles. I honestly didn’t think skipping a bag of Doritos would translate into ten lost pounds. But it was still a bit disheartening. Worse, since returning, I’ve actually gone back up a pound or two, right back to the most recent Day One number.

So . . .

What next? Well, for now, I think nothing. The Year of Failure continues and, for now, I’m just going to try to ride it out. The body does what the body does and rarely consults with us before coming to its decisions. This doesn’t mean “free for all” time. I’m not going to lose my head over it. But at the very least I’m going to try to stop pretending I’m actually on any sort of plan.

I’ll keep checking in each week. I may even post something odd on Thursdays. I may even introduce you to my other blog. So no worries, my two dozen fans, I’ll still be around for a while! Every last pound of me.

I already wrote about it here in January right after the last Christmas break. Go read that now (which includes a thoughtful excerpt from my book) and then you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about.

I’ll wait.

In the spirit of killing two birds with one stone, let me know what you think about this crazy idea: combine a hearty, sweat-breaking exercise with helping people less-fortunate. How’s that sound?

Well, that’s exactly what I did on two mornings during my last vacation up north. Morning number one was spent moving 5,700 pounds of food off a panel truck. Morning number two was spent bagging food, distributing food, moving food, and bagging food again. About five hours across both days. It was hot, sweaty work and I couldn’t have felt better.

Here are a few pics from the trip. Hover your mouse over each for more information. (And if you’re reading this via email or an RSS feed, come back to the site for the full effect.)

So the choice is yours: pay some monster gym fifty bucks a month to walk in place on a boring treadmill OR get a real solid workout and help out people in the process. Oh, and if for some reason you must spend money in order to exercise, the food pantry could probably put that fifty to better use.

I may no longer be twelve (at least on the outside) and perhaps I’ve lost my right to claim a Do Over, but I’m not sure what else to do here. I have to face the fact that this current diet plan has landed on the “out” line: smack on a spot not covered by the rule book and therefore I’m starting over. It would be great, of course, to just be able to repeat the most recent play. Unfortunately, I have to start the game all over.

Last week I’d just gotten back from vacation and I wasn’t sure how things turned out. I concluded with, “it’s time to go get on that scale again and discover the truth. Tune in next week for the results.” Well, it’s next week and—well, there are your results. They’re bad and so I’m calling “do over.” So as much as it pains me to say it, here we go: Welcome to Day One #102.

Ah yes, the dreaded Cheez-It: encountered at Day 42 on my last Return to Onederland trip. This was a good post, not only because it dealt with the omnipresent Cheez-It issue, but also because I spoke of myself in the third person. Charlie should do that more often.

The astute reader will also notice that this is Week 6 of that Onederland journey, a fact that this astute writer only just realized. This is a problem that bothers my inner nerd: the fact that my current return trip is only in Week 2. If I’m going to do this sort of parallel universe fun, I’d really like them to go head to head, week for week.

Therefore, this rerun kick will pause until my current reality catches up with my past. Therefore, expect the next rerun to happen somewhere between five and twelve weeks away, depending on whether there are any additional Week 1’s happening in the meantime.

Next week in this spot, a new post: “Lose Weight: Feel Great.”

It’s not what you think.

Original Post Date: September 8, 2008

“Except maybe Cheez-Its…”

Thus spake Charlie on July 28 [2008]. At the time, Charlie was just joking. Charlie hadn’t actually eaten Cheez-Its for months. Charlie loves them, but due to their high toxicity, he reserves them for rare treats. So you can see, Charlie was just having some fun when he wrote that nothing could stop his diet …except maybe Cheez-Its.

Then about three weeks ago, Charlie helped out his office mate, Sean, on a project. Charlie followed it up with an instant message telling him that if he bought a “big ass box of Cheez-its on Monday” then they would call it even. Charlie didn’t actually mean it.

But sure enough, come Monday, Charlie found a three pound box of Cheez-Its parked on his desk. Oh noes!!!111 This could be disastrous! But fear not! Charlie was very careful about that big box of Cheez-Its all day. At the end of the day he went home, proud of this display of sheer will power, only to find … a three pound box of Cheez-Its on the kitchen counter. Say it ain’t so! This could be doubly disastrous!

Fortunately, it wasn’t. More or less…

About a month ago, I brought a small scale to work. To keep the Cheez-It consumption in check, I portioned them out by weight: 1.5 ounces to be exact (the same size as the vending machine teaser bag). This worked well — up to a point. Every once in a while the box would just open up and stay open. This is where things got bad. Because hand after hand might find its way into the bag, the Cheez-Its never coming anywhere near the scale.

The box only lasted two weeks and I did have plenty of help from others getting rid of it. So overall, I think I did pretty well. But I also now have an explanation for the flattening of that last graph.

Onederland Update

I wish I could have written this post on Saturday, when I was actually down eleven pounds. Stepping off the scale and seeing a new low number was most awesome. I ate well all day and was under 1100 calories before dinner. Then BAM, just like that — I found myself at a restaurant. Oh no. Two beers, eighteen baskets of tortilla chips, and one chimichanga later, I topped out the day at over 2800 calories: about 700 over goal. Sunday morning? Up three pounds. It ain’t fair, I tell ya.

Over the years, I’ve learned there are many pairs of terms which should simply never be used together in the same sentence. Here are just a few:

• Waterskiing, Shotguns
• Animal Shelter, Fireworks
• Chocolate Chip Cookies, Sauerkraut
• Chicago Cubs, World Series

Last, but certainly not least, on this list is, “Diet, Vacation.” I really hadn’t planned on having my last Day One and this trip overlap the way they did, but since when does life ever go as planned?

This week’s chart looks exactly like last week’s chart and for the exact same reason. I have no idea how I’m doing. Ten days on the road (and without a scale) as landed me in quite unfamiliar territory: I have no idea how my diet’s going. And as one of those people who weighs himself every day, rain or shine, I feel out of sorts.

My only real gauge is my intake. And, oddly enough, I think I did pretty well except for one particular day. I tried to watch what I was eating, I didn’t stop at every single Long John Silver’s I passed, and, in general, tried to keep every day to twelve meals or fewer. I think I did pretty well.

I think.

So now it’s time to go get on that scale again and discover the truth. Tune in next week for the results.