Tennessee

Wow. It has been two weeks and one day since I last posted. Before proceeding too much farther into this post, I will record my October 30 weight loss as I neglected to do so last week. It was as follows:

Date: October 30, 2010
Current weight: 317.4 lbs
Weight loss from prior week: 5 lbs
Total weight loss: 20.6 lbs.

Your probably thinking, "What about yesterday's weight loss?" Long story short - I didn't weigh in yesterday. "Why didn't I weigh in yesterday?" Let me explain.

Last Sunday, October 31, I took off to Oak Ridge, Tennessee for a weeks worth of training that involves a portion of the job function I provide to my company. After having a 5 lb weight loss the week before, I was determined to make this trip as low-cal and beneficial as possible. Usually, when I go out of town, it is a restaurant free-for-all that results in me gaining at least 15 lbs of water weight and fat. I'm addicted to food and when I know my expenses are being reimbursed, I tend to let my addiction loose.

In preparation for my trip, I printed off point-totals for Subway (the sandwich makers) and researched what I could do to at least remotely prevent a binge from occurring. I tried to prepare myself for eventualities and play the 'if-then' game that DOS programmers used to play in the late 70's and early 80's. For example:

"IF I pass a Chinese buffet, THEN I will have a back up treat waiting at home if I am able to avoid eating there."

"IF I over eat at a meal, THEN I will pull myself up by the bootstraps and not let it be an excuse to fall off the wagon for the rest of the week," etc, etc, etc.

Recognizing that I am still in a fairly tenuous place with respect to my eating habits, I couldn't realistically believe that I was going to 'rock-the-week'. To do so would be to set myself up for failure. As such, and in the interest of complete transparency, I would like to detail how my week went.

Sunday, October 31: Debbie and the kids dropped me off at the airport at roughly 7:30 in the morning. It was good to have the last little bit of extra time with Debbie and the kids prior to leaving for a week.

After checking in, and recognizing that the first leg of the trip (SLC to Cincinnati) was going to be the long one, I looked around for a snack I could take that would keep me from going for the sodium-bomb nuts and sugar-filled beverages that would be served on the flight.

I found granola nut clusters that came to about 9 weight watcher points for the entire bag. That and a bottled water did the trick. I only had about 35 minutes to transfer when I got to Cincinnati so I did not purchase anything there. The nuts and water got me all the way to Knoxville without any incident.

Upon arrival at Knoxville, I obtained my rental car and drove to Oak Ridge. Being about 6:30 pm by the time I got to Oak Ridge, I pulled into Subway and had a footlong baked chicken breast on wheat (18 points with the chipotle dressing and still well within my points allowance).

Next stop was Walmart to pick up items that would help minimize what I ate for lunch and dinner over the next week. I purchased a 6 pack of 20 oz diet rootbeers, a package of high fiber granola bars, a Snickers candy bar, and a package of peanut m & m's justifying the purchase thusly: If a 500 - 600 calorie reward at the end of the day keeps me from a 3,500 calorie binge during the day, it will have been worth the trade off.

I checked into the hotel at about 7:15 pm and went up to my room. As the time differential was about 2 hours (7:15 pm my time, 5:15 pm Utah time) I had a hard time winding down and settling in for the evening. My mind began to wander to the 'rewards' I had tucked away in the mini-fridge. At about 10:00 pm my time, I broke down and ate them both. Failure. Learning experience: I can't be one-on-one with high-dose sugar. Nor can I keep a reward I'm so attached too within arm's reach.

Monday, November 1: Woke up at 6:00 am and prepared for the day. Left for class at 7:00 am and stopped at Subway on the way in to pick up breakfast. Had the bacon and egg white 6-inch on flat bread. Pretty good; very light breakfast. Class started at 8:00 am and went through noon. Had a granola bar for a snack during break time in between. Went back to Subway for lunch. Starting to get sick of Subway.

Class ended around 4:40 pm. Had dinner at Taco Bell. Nothing else for the rest of the night. did drink a diet rootbeer to take the 'need-to-eat edge off. It worked. Did well on Monday.

Tuesday, November 2: Same routine as Monday - unfortunately, can't stomach another trip to Subway. Had a granola bar and water for breakfast. Decided to try an experiment - eat enough to stave off cravings and end with an early, big meal. Took a granola bar and water for a snack.

Went back to the hotel for lunch and had another granola bar and bottled water. Still feeling good. Brought a diet rootbeer back to class with me to nurse throughout the afternoon.

Class ended at 4:30. Went to a place called Rudy's ( a dinner buffet) and ate while reading. I've never done this before - forced my self to read a half a page or so between bites. It was an illuminating experience. I found myself loosing concentrating on the book and thinking about the food. On the positive side, minimizing the amount of food I ate during the first 20 minutes allowed my brain to send the 'full' signal prior to me over-indulging. As a result, I didn't eat near as much as I otherwise would have. Lesson learned: slowing down while eating really does do something for you.

Went back to the hotel. Had a diet rootbeer during the night. Nothing else. I still felt overly full at bedtime and decided to reverse my experience the next day and see what happens.

Wednesday, November 3: Half-way mark! Really looking forward to seeing Debbie and the kids again. I decided to eat the breakfast buffet at the hotel this morning, taking the larger portion of my calories in earlier in the day. I had one plate of food that consisted of biscuits and gravy, eggs, sausage and bacon. A lot of food... however, I remember the last time I was here (a year and a half earlier, same place, same hotel). I had the breakfast buffet every morning, and my portions were as I described above, times 3. Success.

Got stung for lunch. A couple of the locals in my class were talking about Buddy's BBQ in town and said it was pretty good, I needed to try it. I didn't plan on eating any more than a granola bar and water for lunch, due to the large breakfast. I wound up having BBQ and got pretty down on myself. After class, I wound up going to Sonic drive in for dinner. Day, not as good as I would have liked it to go. Lesson learned: Need an "IF - THEN" statement for unexpected food introductions. Interesting eventuality, however. I didn't feel too bad at the end of the day.

Thursday, November 4: Light at the end of the tunnel! Tried the large breakfast again, this time at Shoney's. The food at the hotel is just too heavy. Retrospective moment: Even though my portion was minimal compared to a year and half earlier, I changed my behavior based on how I felt, not what I wanted to eat. Small victory? maybe.

Granola bar'ed it for lunch and went back to Rudy's for dinner. This was due to shear laziness. Rudy's is right next to the hotel and I was tired after the day. I shouldn't have gone there. Employed the reading trick to minimize my intake. It worked. But I still ate too much.

Friday, November 5: Last day! Granola bar for breakfast this morning. Checked out and took my last rootbeer to class. Class let out at noon. Ate lunch at Subway in the local Walmart.

Interesting side note here. I wish I would have taken a picture, but I couldn't bring my self to do it. After eating lunch, I went to the bathroom in Walmart prior to driving back into Knoxville and to the airport. There was a sign above the stall I entered that read: "Please Use Manuel Flush." I smiled and wanted to start yelling, "Manuel! I need you to come flush the toilet!" But didn't have the heart. I'm pretty sure the sign meant to say, "Use Manual flush." Oh well; given the number of spelling / grammar errors in my writing, I have no room to toss rocks... it was still pretty funny, though.

I arrived at the airport, turned in my car and proceeded to fly from Knoxville to Atlanta. I had a two hour lay over in Atlanta. I had dinner at a Mexican joint in terminal T. Five hours later, I was home. Five hours and 15 minutes after leaving Atlanta, I started feeling sick. Eight hours and 15 minutes after leaving Atlanta, I was doing the technicolor yawn into the toilet. That happened a couple of more times before the night was done.

Saturday, November 6: Being as sick as I was, I missed my weigh in. I'm certain I gained weight during my time in Tennessee. I was actually interested in what my weight would reflect. I just couldn't drag myself out of bed.

All-in-all, I am not sure whether or not to label my experience in Tennessee a success or failure. I certainly stumbled on a couple of occasions yet I did not allow myself to completely fall off the wagon, toss in the towel, or lose all hope. I can honestly say I tried all the way up to the end. That being said, maybe next time will be a little better. And if it is, well, that's all I can hope for. Measurable progress over time; whether it be minimal or exponential. I'm at a place in life where I will take what I can get.

Weight Watcher's... and Other Indoor Sports

Before getting too far into this post, it is necessary for me to input a couple of profile pictures.

This is a picture someone took of me at a family dinner event:

This is a picture of me with my bagpipes:

And last but not least, this is a picture of me watching football after Thanksgiving dinner:

Alright; now that we have the show-n-tell portion of the blog over, I can get on to the 'meat' of the post, if you will.

As you have probably noticed from the pictures above, I still have a few pounds to lose. In fact, I have more pounds to lose than I did when I started this blog however many years ago it was.

About three and a half weeks ago, my wife asked me what I thought about doing Weight Watchers again, You see, we had done it once before, back when we had only been married a couple of years. It had worked well. The timing was right also. It was the summer between my Sophomore and Junior year in the Chem E. program, I was interning as a Health Physicist for a nuclear waste disposal company, and we therefore had the extra money to put toward a Weight Watchers membership. We did really well for the month and half we went. Unfortunately, summer ended, as did the internship and the extra money. As such, so did the memberships.

Fast forward roughly ten years. We have a little more disposable income (not much!), Debbie is doing awesome on her weight, health and physical fitness goals, and I still need... well I need something; not sure what.

After Debbie brought it up again, I considered the idea and thought, "Why not?"

Debbie found a meeting location and after work that day I went straight there. Have you ever seen what a hungry shark looks like? If not, imagine what a weight loss counselor trying to sell memberships for a weight loss organization looks like when 'Jabba the Hutt' walks through the door. It was like I was about to provide Christmas for her family... I digress.

In all honesty, the people were warm and friendly; so much so, I thought about bringing doughnuts for everybody as a small token of my thanks. Then I remembered where I was. Needless to say, my first meeting was on (or about) October 4, 2010. I weighed in at a slim, trim 338 pounds (If I were a candy bar, would that be considered the fun size?).

Mu current weight as of this morning at 7:15 am is 322.4 pounds, down 15.6 from my initial weigh-in. Seems to be working. The information they provide is also helpful, not to mention their points system is much easier to track than a calorie-counting system.

It will be my goal to try and blog my weight on a weekly basis, preferably Saturday mornings after I have weighed in. I think that will help me with my accountability over the weekends especially.

That being said, I'm off to walk in the rain for a series of politicians seeking my help. Until next time, and in the words of Uncle Red from the Red Green show, keep your stick on the ice!

A Fond Farwell to the Mountain West Conference

Given today’s events, I would like to take a moment and pay tribute to those members of the Mountain West Conference who chose to ‘lip off’ over the last couple of weeks; enjoying pot shot after pot shot at BYU’s expense.

I know how badly you loved milking the Y’s football program for everything it was worth, but listen people – calling the Big Brother of the conference ‘arrogant’, making fun of its core religious values and basically denigrating the one team that brought in 70% of the television revenue generated by a weak-sauce, pathetic TV network was NOT the way to get us to stay. It was like listening to a bunch of deadbeats who refuse to work (i.e. can’t win a conference championship to save their lives) scream at the rich kid on the block because he’s sick and tired of giving you money and receiving NO return on investment WHATSOEVER!

Anyway, let’s get the easy one’s done first:

UTAH: You went to the right conference. Have fun drinking from the trough of the 12-pac.

AIR FORCE: The Fighting Falcons were the only institution I know of that kept their head above the muck rather than steeped in it. Thank you Air Force – not only for your continued class as one of our nation’s service academies, but for maintaining the honor and respect that comes standard issue with America’s fighting men and women.

Now, on to the rest of the morons:

COLORADO STATE and the DENVER POST: Ahhh. The place where the rumors started flying on Augist 18.

I really don’t know what to say about you guys. I’m afraid that you are about to be lambasted with a little guilt by association. When Mr. Henderson came out with his cute little article, calling BYU delusional and arrogant, telling us to basically sit down, shut up and continue allowing Colorado State to live off the BYU dole, I couldn’t help but sit back and laugh. If he wanted to find the definition of ‘delusional’ or arrogant’, he needed to look no further than the recently Big 12-departed ‘Buffs’ in his backyard.

I remember how proud the Denver Post was of Colorado’s move to the 12-Pac. To bad he didn’t read the rest of the nation’s ‘congratulations’ to the Big-12 for shedding an athletic program that was rapidly on its way to total academic suspension by the NCAA.

All that being said, so long Colorado State. Enjoy your irrelevance in a conference that no longer has a TV deal.

WYOMING: Now don’t get too excited by the picture. Focus… fooocuuusss. Here let’s sing a song that will bring you back to this post, should you be the rare Wyoming fan who can actually read. Sing it with me!

“B, double E, double R, U, N, BEEER RUUUN! B, double E, double R, U, N, beeeerrr RUUunnn! All we need is a ten and a fiver, a set of keys and a sober driver, B, double E, double R, U, N, BEEeerr ruuunnnnn!”

Yes, you classless bunch of drunk, sheep-loving red necks. Now whose religion and values do you propose to make fun of now that BYU is gone? You certainly can’t make fun of your own… you don’t have any!

Your stadium was the only one where if I drove to see a game, I had to change my license plate from UTAH to WYOMING prior to parking next to your dust bowl of a stadium. Funny thing is, any Wyoming fan reading this post is probably proud, laughing to himself and thinking, “Ya, hah, Hah, Hah. We sure do vandalize good… hah, hah, hah.”

But really, I shouldn’t be too hard. It’s difficult to act like a normal human being when you have drank so many of your brain cells in to utter oblivion.

Here… let me help you forget your sorry state and help you focus on something that will help you feel much better. “BAAAA! BAAAAAAAAA! BAAAAAAAA!”

TCU: Jennifer Engel – that was cute what you said about BYU erecting a Touchdown Joseph similar to the Touchdown Jesus that Notre Dame has. Just so we are clear, you, the idiot form the Denver Post and ESPN's Andy Katz were the only ones to call us the Notre Dame of the West. BYU never made any comparison. In fact, every time independence came up with our Athletic Director, he was clear to say that we are NOT a Notre Dame.

Hey, speaking of erecting things, good luck finding the funding to complete your stadium. Good luck filling it now that BYU and UTAH are no longer coming around to visit on a regular basis. Heaven knows that no one in your neck of the woods cares to see TCU play.

Enjoy your smugness. Maybe, someday, when you're a big girl, you will be able to have your own HD television studio with the capability of broadcasting TCU football internationally, into roughly 50 million homes... or maybe not.

SAN DIEGO: Too bad your football team isn’t as moderate as your climate. Hell… you’d take moderate on a good year given the horrible success you have on the football field.

Didn’t your coach come out recently and say something about, “nobody wanting to play an independent BYU?” Yaaaa, wait - no. Don’t deny it. He said it right before Texas scheduled a home and home with BYU starting in 2013.

Correct me if I’m wrong, here, but… didn’t you just lose the lease to the football stadium you’re playing in? Man, that must suck, being so insolvent you can’t even afford your own football stadium. What are you going to do now that you won’t be able to sell out your ‘leased’ arena for the BYU - San Diego State game? Oh yah… your going to come crawling back, begging we come play you because “we need the money!”

NEW MEXICO: Other than, “It sucks to be you,” I really don’t know what else to say.

In closing, I would just like to add that for all of you who are making fun of our other sports going to the WCC, be advised that they will be fine. You can continue to play your tournaments in Las Vegas and try to drum up some support for your Olympic sports. Rest assured, with the $6 to $8 million BYU stands to pull in on an annual basis, our other sports will be taken care of just fine.

Now, if you will excuse me, I’m going to watch a little TV. Maybe I’ll turn it to THE MOUNTAIN. Chances are there is a good BYU vs. FILL-IN-THE-Blank game on. Besides, the station will no longer exist after summer 2011. Good luck finding some exposure guys (except for you, Wyoming. Please, for the love of mercy, STOP exposing yourself!).

Lions and Tigers and Triathlons, Oh My!

Have any of you seen the movie ‘The 300’? It is about 300 Spartan warriors that hold off the entire Persian army because of their blindingly huge biceps and amazing skills with a bow-staff. I digress. Anywho, if you’ve seen the movie, you recognize that Hollywood had to hunt far and long to find 300 guys that were, a: that incredibly ripped and, b: smart enough to memorize consecutive sentences of three words or more.

The first time I saw The 300, I distinctly remember thinking to myself, “Wow. Why can’t I be that ripped? Why can’t I perform feats of strength like these guys?” The answer came in complete clarity on May 15 when I foolishly followed my spouse into Sand Hollow reservoir (Hurricane, UT) for a Sprint-distance Triathlon. I can’t put words to ‘said answer’ anymore than I could use language to describe the taste of salt.

The answer itself defies descriptive language. I believe it is better answered with descriptive feelings or emotions… feelings such as pain and, emotions such as fear. Not just regular, “Ouch, I got a paper cut” ‘pain’, or, “Wow, that was a scary movie” fear. More along the lines of, “I think my spine is on fire!” pain, and, “This is what it must feel like to die!” fear.

Pain and fear. I’m not sure how the rest of you feel about physical exercise, but from my rather limited perspective, it hurts; it don’t feel good; me no lik-ee. It is much less painful to wrap my body with an arm chair, my mind in a movie and my gut around a burrito than it is to swim in 56-degree water (without a wetsuit because they don’t make wetsuits in any size that resembles an endangered species when worn!).

Further, there is no emotional investment in going to the pool. Especially if you hang out in the splash pad with your 3, 5 and 7 year old. Conflicting emotions arise when you are a quarter of a mile out into a reservoir, and you can’t see the bottom, and you just inhaled a bunch of water, and a fish just swam by your leg (I hope it was a fish), AND the overly competitive doofis in front of you just kicked your eye goggles sideways. That’s never happened to me in the splash pad before! As such, I admit to having been a tiny bit afraid (i.e. mind numbingly terrified).

I didn’t know the meaning of the word pain until confronted with a one-mile, 6% grade hill during the biking event. On the other hand, it was a completely different brand of fear that I felt when I had to turn around and ride back down said hill at 40 mph, both brakes fully locked, my fat carcass proving that acceleration IS an extreme amount of force (what would have happened if I had wrecked) divided by mass (my fat a$$ on a road bike going mach 3 down a hill while trying to keep things ‘straight’ and ‘steady’ enough to ‘hit’ the tiny little plastic mat that was placed over the top of the cattle guard at the bottom of the freakin’ hill!).

And we haven’t even come to the best part yet. I tell you what, people - you haven’t lived until you’ve had the opportunity to get hypothermia, bike into Mordor, then follow it up with a relaxing jog in 90 degree weather ALL IN THE SAME DAY! Beautiful! I’ve never felt closer to the Lord in my entire life. Probably because I was near death several times (by the way, I didn’t see a bright light at the end of a tunnel, I saw a deep fried, chocolate dipped funnel cake – liars!).

What really amazes me about this whole event is how well Debbie did. She had a great swim time, killed the bike part of it, ran the run, then turned around and ran it with me, thereby qualifying my wife (in my eyes, anyway) as a Spartan warrior.

I’ve asked myself on several occasions what the difference between her experience and my experience had been. We swam in the same water, biked the same course and ran the same path. Why did she have so much fun? The only answer I can come up with is attitude. Hers is good, mine sucks. She has enjoyed, and focused, on her journey to better health. I’m fixated on the finish line and therefore getting frustrated with the pain along the way. Just one thought, anyway.

If nothing else, it’s an interesting hypothesis. Maybe I’ll focus on straightening out my attitude a little bit this year and see if I have better results next year when we try this whole triathlon madness again. I might still not be in Spartan-esque from when that time comes, but maybe I’ll be able to fit into a wetsuit. That would at least be progress…

Spin Class

I started doing spin class a few weeks ago on Mondays. On week number one, I was pretty certain that the Aquatic Center was going to have to call in a surgeon to physically remove the bike seat from my butt... at least that's what I hoped they would do. I don't think I could have outlived the humiliation of a life-light trip with a spin bike sticking out of ye ol' canister. Would have been an awesome visual for the northern part of the Wasatch Range as we flew over though.

On week number two, I was overcome with feelings of strong regret that Chris Farley never lived to see the whole 'Spin Revolution' take place. There is not a doubt in my mind that he could have come up with a wonderful skit that would forever memorialize the true meaning of a fat guy sitting on something more akin to a weapon that an actual seat.

Ooh! even better - Spin Class, the movie! That would've been awesome! I can close my eyes and picture it now... twenty bikes, an incredibly ripped instructor, nineteen "class members" who look as though they were plucked straight from the Tour-de-France, and Chris Farley... the little fat guy who could. That would make my day.

Getting back to reality however. I used to spend an inordinate amount of time on a bike. My bike was the only mode of travel I had for the full two years I spent in Japan. At one point in time, I could go for 30 to 40 miles in a day without breaking a sweat (or significantly increasing the length of the Southern Divide at any rate). All that being said, I don't remember my bike seat ever feeling like a 90-year-old bony fist. Every time the spin instructor yelled, "Out of the saddle!" I wanted to scream, "Tell the saddle to get out of me, and I'll be more than happy to get out of it!"

Oh well. I shouldn't complain. I did this to myself. It's probably a written law of physics somewhere:

"The comfort associated with the feel of a bicycle seat on one's butt is inversely proportional to the ratio of the size of said butt to the size of said seat."

In other words, I'm confident that this is just one of the natural consequences of putting your weight north of the three-bill mark. When you've spent as much time riding a Lazy Boy as I have in the last couple of decades, anything smaller is bound to be uncomfortable.

Hmm. I wonder if anyone has ever thought of making a bike seat that could comfortably help someone like me back into the sport of biking?

Nahhh. Probably not.

Has This Ever Happened to You?

A fair amount of time has passed since the following event occured. It has only been recently that I feel confident enough to post it. What that means, in short terms, is that what you are about to read is one of the more embarrassing things that has happened to me recently.

A couple of nights a week I try to go swimming (and yes, I wear a shirt as well as swim trunks). It is generally later at night that I go because I recognize that I'm slow in the water and I don't want to hold anyone up. At night, there are more lanes open and fewer people trying to use them.

Anyway, I went a little earlier than I normally do and swam as hard as I could for as long as I could. I wound up going about 750 yards in a 2o minute period of time which for me, was good! Well, I walked off to the shower room feeling pretty good about myself.

Now, in order for you to understand the rest of the story, you need to undersatnd the layout of the exercise facility I attend. There are three locker rooms: the men's room, the women's room, and a family room that has lockable changing-slash-shower rooms. Late at night, when there are no families there, I like to go to the family room so that I can have a locked, shower all to myself.

Now, getting back to my story - I went about my business, showered off and cleaned up so that I my wife wouldn't have to sleep next to a chlorine bomb all night. I stepped out of the shower feeling pretty good about myself when all of the sudden, the fire alarm went off.

Let me pause and ask you a question real quick: It's roughly 9:15 at night, about 34 degrees F outside, you're 315 lbs of buck naked and a fire alarm is going off - what do you do? Let me tell you what I did. I proceeded to set a land-speed record for the fattest-slash-fastest towel and dress job in the world. If the Guiness people had been there, I'm certain I would have had my picture placed in their book!

All that being said, it still wasn't fast enough... about a minute and a half after the alarm went off, I heard someone coming down the row of shower rooms and opening all the doors to make sure they were clear. I could hear them coming closer. Finally, the handle on my door moved, and then frantically jiggled, at which point, the following exchange occured:

Female Voice (FV): Is there somebody in there?!

Me: (thinking... then saying) Yes?

FV: There's a fire alarm going off!

Me: I know! (starting to put sweat pants on)

FV: You gotta get out of there!

Me: (looking down at the parts that are NOT covered yet) No!

FV: (with urgency) But there's a FIRE ALARM going off!!

Me: (Just as urgent) I promise - you DO NOT want me to come out of this room, right now! (sweat pants on, going for the shirt while simultaneously throwing a bunch of soaking wet laundry into my gym bag).

FV: What if there's a fire?!

Me: THEN I WILL BURN!!

There was a slight pause in the conversation as I am sure that the woman speaking to me through the door was good and ready to let me die. It was just enough time for me to get my shirt on, open the door, apologize and walk bare foot out into the foyer of the building.

As the building was not on fire, I proceeded to sit down in the foyer and finish putting my shoes and sockes on. About the same time I finished, the rest of the facility staff finished herding us out the door into the cold. It was at that point that I realized that it could have been a lot worse. I could have been just getting into the pool when the alarm went off, which is where I would have been if I hadn't gone a little earlier that night.

Needless to say, for as embarrassing as the whole event was to me, I'm certain it may have been worse for the poor girl who had to get me out of the locker room.

Subliminal Programming

So, I was at the gym the other day making my 'fat can' do the elliptical for 50 minutes. Oddly enough, the only thing running through my mind was, "I wonder who is going to win Iron Chef tonight?" Then it occurred to me. I am at the gym simultaneously killing my gravity-defying self and watching Food Network on the TV in front of me! how ridiculous is that?! That would be like Tiger Woods swearing off extra-marital affairs while on a date with an escort.

After I got home, I turned on the TV again to watch a little news and there it was: a Kentucky Fried Chicken commercial that made me want to butter-up and roll in a secret set of herbs and spices. It shocked me how responsive I was to what I was viewing on the tube. That's not to say I blame marketing directors across the nation for my overly longitudinal issues. Quite the contrary; no force fed me at the buffet line.

When the soda manufacturers of the world said, "Obey your thirst," I had the choice to decline.

Taco Bell has repeatedly said, "Think outside the bun." I did - now my buns think outside my chair.

McDonald's used to say, "We love to see you smile." Now that I'm thinking about it, I don't remember smiling after I finished a Big Mac and large fry - matter-of-fact, I don't remember doing much of anything after finishing a Big Mac and large fry. Yet I continually chose to go back again and again.

Burger King wanted me to, "Have it my way." Well, I did. I just didn't think about the diabetes, hypertension, sky rocketing cholesterol and astronomical triglycerides number that came with the meal.

As I've always understood it, "M&M's melt in your mouth, not in your hands." It's a good thing, too - there are diabetics out there that can't feel their fingers anymore.

I don't want that to be me anymore. It's time I came up with my own slogan.