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Dieters unite: I’ve got a plan ...

By The Standard Staff - 01/16/2008

Gather round. Raise your hand if you willfully pigged out this past holiday season. Yep, just as I expected. But I wasn’t any better as the calories from my daily binge eating hovered between 5,000 and the U.S. trade deficit.

For example, Christmas day I was playing Tiger Woods’ golf on a Nintendo Wii, barely holding par after pulling my groin on the third hole, par 5, tee shot. Contently, I was analyzing a 12-foot putt while munching on caramel corn and sipping hot chocolate when my wife hollers, “Turkey dinner on the table, now!” In an act of pure restraint, I grabbed a snowman sugar cookie and stuffed my face.

You know what I’m talking about. Holiday goodies piled all over the house, beckoning undisciplined taste buds into an insatiable flavor orgy. Hold on, I need to finish this piece of fudge…. OK!

I ingested billions of calories that instantaneously morphed into fat and, through a fine-tuned circulatory system, became lodged in strategic locations like my butt. The process was exasperated by the miracle of modern aging, where my metabolic rate continues to decline from crutches to a wheelchair.

Don’t laugh! Just look at what wheelchair metabolism does to common foods:

  • oatmeal (plain) — 2 calories but inedible;

  • caramel corn (handful) — 600 calories and a healthy substitute for leafy greens;

  • cinnamon roll (one with ice cream) — calories equal to dollar amount of national debt;

  • chocolate fudge (one large square, like you’ll stop at one) — calories unknown.

    All this meant zilch after I savored that first mouthful of my wife’s pecan pie, hidden by enough Cool Whip to cover Belgium. I was prepared to indefinitely wolf down pie even if my stomach desperately signaled my brain it was going to blow.

    Holiday eating eliminates the stress and emotional anguish we as Americans suffer — that and the fact most of us have no self-control. So, with bright new 2008 promises, we’re foolishly convinced stubborn fat will vanish as quickly as it materialized. Ha, ha! We can be sooooo funny.

    If you’re determined to drop that extra weight, here’s my “Six Steps Without Steroids” approach: 1. Set goals: Start with baby-step goals: no ice in your soda, cold pie instead of warm, warm beer instead of cold, and wearing blue jeans instead of sweats. Take after George W. by sidestepping seemingly impossible goals — like troop withdrawal.

    2. Mental preparation: Get the correct mind-set by chanting self-affirming mantras while standing naked in front of a full-length mirror. My favorite is, “Oh my gosh!” 3. Count calories: Keeping a calorie diary is a stressful, arduous, gruesome, time-intensive process closely resembling raising kids, without the tax exemptions. Even Barry Bonds counts calories. Here’s a typical entry: “water n 0 calories, BALCO pills of unknown substances n 230 calories.” 4. Eat healthy: Most health officials recommend a fiber-rich diet low in sweets and fats where I stress a “food compliment” diet. Mountain Dew compliments pizza by breaking down excess fats into innocuous acids found in everyday car batteries. Apple pie with a non-dairy topping encases sugar molecules in a petroleum-based capsule the body stealthily hides in harmless locations like the aorta.

    5. Exercise: Try these as a part of your daily workout regimen: Milk jug lift — lift jug between refrigerator shelves, repeat until dizzy. Wall sit — a comfortable recliner is best for beginners. Tummy crush — lying flat on your back, place a heavy object (e.g. riding lawnmower) on stomach. Relax! The abs will know what to do. Thermal conversion — force your body to burn calories by consuming extremely cold beer. Caution: Always consult your physician before crushing beer cans on your forehead.

    6. Reward yourself: Make the reinforcement appropriate and affordable. Simple pleasures don’t have to cost a lot. Many congressmen, after losing holiday weight, spend a week in the Bahamas.

    Good luck! It’ll take grueling hours of exercise to burn one chocolate-nut brownie. But who cares? It tastes great!

    — Joe Barnhart is a humorous writer in Dillon. Please send comments to lifestooserious@gmail.com.


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