The Last Meal

Like many Americans, I eat to deal with stress. When Brenda unceremoniously dumped me last year, Carls Jr. was there to comfort me. That, combined with physical inactivity brought on by newly-single malaise, has combined to give me a paunch. I can’t go back to dating looking as though I have a case of early-onset male pregnancy. Something has to change.

Over the weekend, I bought vegetables, brown rice, tofu, and lean chicken and fish. I managed to clear off the crap from my treadmill in the spare bedroom and got the dumbbell set out of the garage. If I wake up at 5:00 AM every day, I can get a good hour of exercise in before work.

My plan was to start the healthy living program on Monday. Since I was going to be giving up some of the foods that I love, I decided to give myself a last meal. It started with a shrimp cocktail and artichoke spinach dip with tortilla chips. Then the main course, which consisted of a 24 oz. t-bone steak, corn, and a baked potato (with butter, sour cream, cheese, and bacon). For desert, I had two pieces of turtle cheesecake.

I went to bed early to ensure I was rested for the early wake-up, but I didn’t sleep. Instead, I spent most of the evening in the bathroom with excruciating abdominal cramps interspersed with periods of diarrhea. By 5:00 AM, I was still too ill to work out. In fact, I was too sick to go to work on Monday.

There’s too much planning and psyche-up to start dieting during the week. I can’t do it next week because of the holiday, and the week after, I’m headed to Tulsa for business. But I will start this diet soon. I swear.