Over the past few years, I’ve noticed I’ve begun to put on a few pounds. I noticed this primarily because my wife kept saying, “Hey, you’ve put on a few pounds. When are you going to do something about it?”
In my younger years, I used to treat my body like a temple. But lately my body has become more of a Temple of Doom. So I’ve decided to do something about it.
I tried various fad diets: the Nothing-but-fruit diet, the Everything-but-fruit diet, the Mango & Salmon milk shake diet, the “All-You-Can-Eat-Just-So-Long-As-It’s-Cabbage” diet. None of them worked, in part because I usually gave up after about 40 minutes.
I recently discovered – much to my chagrin – that there are no short cuts to fitness and good health. So I came up with eight very simple daily commitments in the areas of fitness and nutrition. I once raced in the New York Marathon. (Okay, meandered might be more accurate description of my pace.) Heck, by comparison, this should be a piece of cake. Drat! Now I’m craving a piece of cake.
I knew I would not succeed unless I wrote down my new commitments. I was later informed that writing them down and shoving the list in my file drawer would not be enough to ensure success. I had to actually track my progress. So far, I’m off to a bit of a shaky start.
DAY 4
Daily Commitment
Actual Results
Healthy breakfast with fruit
Special K with fresh-cut strawberries. Added three tablespoons of sugar just for texture.
Stretch 10 minutes
Forgot again. But did climb back up the stairs twice because I forgot my wallet, and then forgot my car keys. Could feel it in my calves.
Drink 8 glasses of water
Drank four glasses. Which is four more than I have ever drunk in the past 25 years, so I consider this a promising start. Man, I gotta pee.
No junk food. Try almonds or carrots
Brought bag of carrots to work. Accidently left them in the car all day. Oops. Spoiled. Gave carrots to a raccoon rummaging in dumpster.
45-minute aerobic workout
Did 20 minutes but ran out of time when I suddenly remembered I had an early morning meeting at the office next Tuesday.
Weights for 30 minutes
Had to lift the bed so my wife could retrieve our frightened cat. That bed weighs a ton. So I’d say I did my fair share of weights. Check.
No eating after 8pm
Okay, I buckled. I had a PBJ sandwich at 9:30. But at least I got my daily dose of fruit with the slathering of grape jelly.
Floss teeth before bed
Totally spaced. Will floss first thing tomorrow morning
DAY 9
Daily Commitment
Actual Results
Healthy breakfast with fruit
Running late. Wolfed down three fruit roll-ups. Green Apple Blast. Contains 5% real fruit. You know what they say. An apple rollup a day keeps… I forget the rest.
Stretch 10 minutes
Bent over to tie my shoes. Both of them. Felt it in the hammies.
Drink 8 glasses of water
Had three Diet Cokes, and one 20 oz. Mountain Dew Code Red. Pretty sure they all are mostly water.
No junk food. Try almonds or carrots
Had two Almond Joy candy bars at 3pm. Was leaning towards a Mounds bar, but was committed to getting my share of almonds.
45-minute aerobic workout
Only did 15 minutes on the exercycle but watched CNN the entire time so it was kind of an aerobic workout for my brain.
Weights for 30 minutes
Weighted in line for 30 minutes at Starbucks for my double tall caramel Frappuccino.
No eating after 8pm
Had a 20-ounce malted chocolate milkshake at 8:45 p.m. I never said anything about not drinking after 8pm.
Floss teeth before bed
Arrgh! Totally spaced – again. Guess I’ll need to come up with a better system to remind me than tying floss to my thumb.
DAY 16
Daily Commitment
Actual Results
Healthy breakfast with fruit
Had two bowls of Fruit Loops. The cereal even has “fruit” in its name, so it’s got to be healthy. Note to self: re: Count Chocula. Apparently chocolate is not a fruit. Bummer.
Stretch 10 minutes
In explaining to my wife why I needed to buy a new set of golf clubs, I stretched the truth for over 15 minutes. Counting that as stretching.
Drink 8 glasses of water
Drank 32-ounce Big Gulp. Some new flavor called Cranberry Splash. Pretty sure cranberry is a fruit – or maybe a vegetable – so once again, think I aced this one.
No junk food. Try almonds or carrots
Scarfed down two slices of carrot cake – with almond slivers on top. Killed two birds with one stone. Sa-weet.
45-minute aerobic workout
Went to health club to run on treadmill. Opted for the Jacuzzi instead. Lots of air bubbles, so that’s sort of aerobic, I think.
Weights for 30 minutes
Fell asleep in Jacuzzi so ran out of time. Double up tomorrow.
No eating after 8pm
Had a chocolate-covered donut and rocky road ice cream at 9:45pm but technically it was only 7:45pm in Hawaii. Show me where I said it had to be 8pm in my time zone! Nowhere!
Floss teeth before bed
Totally spaced. But in my defense, I was thinking about it. Then my wife distracted me by asking me how my day was. So it’s her fault.
I have to say, this is much harder than I thought. It’s now day 21 and frankly, my progress has slowed down a bit. Today my exercise consisted of channel surfing. So technically, that’s a kind of surfing. And surfing’s aerobic.
And while I was channel surfing, I saw this infomercial about a breakthrough new miracle fat-burning pill that melts away fat while you sleep. One customer claimed she lost 50 pounds in two weeks. I have to try this out. And here’s the best part: No flossing required.
That’s the view from the bleachers. Perhaps I’m off base.
PS: If you enjoyed this week’s post, let me know by sharing it on Facebook, posting a comment or giving it a. Better yet, why not set a goal to forward this post to 500 of your closest friends. Better write down this goal before you forget it.
I’m not proud that for most of my adult life, I have tended to play it safe. I’ve always obeyed the rules and did what I was told. I’ve always used my turn signals, always separated the white from the dark laundry. I’ve always followed a predictable routine. If it’s 6:15 am, I’m hopping on the exercycle. If it’s 6:20 am, I’m in the bathroom flossing. A boringly predictable life.
But not anymore. I’ve decided life’s too short. I’m not going to be a conformist sheep following the herd anymore. I’m going to zig when they expect me to zag. I’ve decided to shake up my button-down life – starting by unbuttoning my collar. Hell, I just might not even wear a tie for work tomorrow. And there’s not a damn thing my boss can do about it (since I’m working from home tomorrow).
Lately I’ve turned into a rebel. It feels so liberating. My natural hair color is coffee brown. But last week, feeling in a dangerous mood, I dyed it mocha brown. I feel months younger. And look closely at my hair. I’ve started wearing my left sideburn an eighth of an inch lower than my right one – my silent protest to The Man that I will not conform to society’s rules anymore.
At sporting events, I now do the wave two seconds after the rest of my section. Sure it pisses off some fans. I’m living life on the edge.
This weekend I have the whole house to myself. Our elder daughter Rachel is a college freshman and our younger daughter Emily (who apparently really admires her dad – who knew?) is with my wife this weekend, visiting the college she’ll be enrolling in next fall. For the past few days, it’s been eerily quiet in the house – and eerily tidy. It’s weird to walk into my bathroom and not see my daughter’s curling iron, dirty towels and jars of makeup, eye liner, and moisturizing creams piled up in my sink. I barely recognize the kitchen now because there are no stacks of dirty dishes covering every square inch of the counter.
This got me to thinking about next fall, when for the first time in 19 years, there will be no kids in our house. We’ll be joining the ranks of a rapidly growing demographic: Happy People (otherwise known as “Empty Nesters”). Many couples look forward to this phase of life. But for me, it’s going to be a difficult adjustment. So I took time this weekend to look at old photo albums and watch old family videos. It brought back wonderful memories of many happy times with our daughters.
Like the 1,284 times I changed our daughters’ diapers when they were young (which, according to my rough estimate, is approximately 1,284 more times than my father changed his own kids’ diapers when we were young).
If you’re like my wife, then after you’ve been married for about two years you probably realize your decision to get married was a serious mistake. Marriage is difficult, especially if your husband is a humor writer or if you have kids. If both of those conditions apply to you, then may God have mercy on your soul.
My wife Michele (who prefers not to be mentioned by name in my columns, so will henceforth be referred to as “the woman who prefers not to be mentioned as Michele”) and I have been married for 26 years. Like any married couple, we’ve had our ups and downs. We’ve squabbled over trivial disagreements like why I always pull all the covers over to my side of the bed at night, what was I thinking the time I taught our 9- and 8-year-old daughters how to hitchhike, and my minor lapse of judgment when I hired a police officer stripper for a surprise party for my wife’s 40th birthday. Turns out my wife was not quite as impressed by Officer Cinnamon’s sexy pole dancing skills as my poker buddies and I were.
So yes, we’ve endured our fair share of marital misunderstandings. But there is one issue which for years has caused more heartache and strife than any couple should have to endure. That’s right. I’m talking about the differences in how we load the dishwasher. It is still painful to talk about in public.
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Every year it seems like thousands of people come to me for advice on how to improve their love life. Most people call me the Love Doctor (except for my wife, who usually calls me by her pet name, “you bastard”).
For years people the world over have sought my advice as a foremost authority on matters of the heart. Perhaps it’s because I’m half-German. Or maybe because I got an A- in French in high school –the language of love. I don’t actually have any formalized training in this arena. And I still don’t quite understand position #27 of the Kama Sutra.
My love advice credentials stem from a series of devastating, soul-crushing, failed romances in my formative youth, all of which ended catastrophically. (To this day, I still can’t look at a wrist corsage without suffering traumatic flashbacks.)
February 14th is Valentine’s Day, officially recognized by Hallmark as the one day each year men are expected to demonstrate their love for their wife by buying a sappy card with flowers and chirping birds, inside of which is written a banal poem with hackneyed rhymes like “you’re my wife” and “rest of my life”. Oh, and don’t forget the heart-shaped box of chocolates. Here’s a useful tip: Make sure you leave at least 5 chocolates for your wife – I’d suggest the caramel-centered ones. You know how much she loves caramel. The other 364 days you guys can go back to not showering and channel-surfing between ESPN 1 and ESPN 2. Your job is done.
Over the past few years, I’ve noticed I’ve begun to put on a few pounds. I noticed this primarily because my wife kept saying, “Hey, you’ve put on a few pounds. When are you going to do something about it?” 
I have to say, this is much harder than I thought. It’s now day 21 and frankly, my progress has slowed down a bit. Today my exercise consisted of channel surfing. So technically, that’s a kind of surfing. And surfing’s aerobic. 
PS: If you enjoyed this week’s post, let me know by sharing it on Facebook, posting a comment or giving it a
. Better yet, why not set a goal to forward this post to 500 of your closest friends. Better write down this goal before you forget it. 
