Me llamo: El Porko

So I am fat. Ish.

OK, maybe not by the literal definition of the word, but more so than I've been in a while. And I am pretty sure that I'm not entirely thrilled with it.

Quick background recap: I spent most of my post-college years with a significant case of abdominal overhang. Mostly due to the fact that I consumed mostly unhealthy foods. A large volume of unhealthy foods. Oh, and I never exercised, which I understand can be bad. Nonetheless, a pretty young minister - who was obviously taking part in a seminary school curriculum on pity - agreed to get married. Inspired, and fearful of losing out on a free house, I decided to drop 30 lbs before the wedding.

So I did. And you know what? It was a pretty simple. I ran 7 miles every weekday and significantly cut back on the amount of food that I ate. Yeah, it sucked getting up every morning at 5 a.m., but that's life. Fast forward a few months, and I am standing at the alter, chugging down the most disgusting wine ever produced, exactly 31 lbs. lighter. I wasn't thin - I'll never be thin - but I looked pretty good. No abdominal overhang.

And now a digression, where I will almost certainly ruffle a few feathers (at least you've been warned). If you are looking to drop some pounds (and not everyone is), eat better and exercise. That's it. There is no secret formula. There is no secret diet. There is no cheating. It's amazing how many people want to look better but are unwilling to put in the work. If you are unwilling to put in the work, don't complain. You have nobody to blame but yourself.

(And if you suffer from some type of physiological condition that renders the above advice moot, please disregard.)

Anyway, for well over a year, I was within 5 pounds of my wedding weight because I kept up my exercise routine - 7 miles per day, every weekday. At that rate, burning 1,100 calories per day on the treadmill, I could eat most anything I wanted (within reason).

However, starting last summer I became a little less maniacal at the idea of getting up so early. And if I am going to run, it will be first thing in the morning - the rest of my day is too busy. 5 days per week became a pretty regular 4 days per week, and then my travel schedule picked up, which meant some weeks I would run only 1 or 2 days per week. And lately, I find it easier than ever to come up with a reason not to get up so early - meaning that most weeks, I am on the treadmill two or three times.

7 miles per day, three times per week, is still pretty good except for one minor detail - I am a mild-to-moderate glutton; at dinner it's two full servings of whatever Jenn makes. If we order pizza, I can easily scarf down a large by myself. Etc, etc.

So it is no surprise that over the past several months, I've been inching up to 10 lbs or so over my wedding weight....and am now getting closer to 15 then to 10.

And I have no one to blame but myself.

On the bright side, I still look and feel a lot better than I did in the past. Plus, I can run 7 miles without huffing and puffing, so that's good.

On the not-so-bright side, I've fallen off the wagon. I liked the way I used to look and don't quite like the way I look now.

So it's gut-check time: re-commit myself, put in the work and get down to my fighting weight? Or keep with the status quo and stay in reasonably good shape with a little softness in the old belly.

I'm leaning heavily towards getting back on the wagon - I will feel better about myself, I will look better and most importantly, I won't have to pay for new pants (once a Jew...).

Of course, I'll probably wait until after my upcoming birthday - and the continuing tradition of manly beef night.