November 20th, 2009

evil toys

The real secret to weight loss?

Faking it. Apparently.

I'm generally a good kid about going to the gym and sticking to the diet of whole grains and bland chickens that my personal trainer, Grant, expects me to follow. I would give myself an A for effort and a B+ for execution for 6 out of the 8 weeks I've been doing this. For those 6 weeks, every time I'd weigh in, my weight would be exactly the same as when I started. Sure, my tummy is less flabby, my face has gained some definition, and my legs and arms are toning up, but actual numerical weight has not come off.

Now, for historical documentation (and by that I mean "what I write on my food/exercise logs"), I've been a B+ to A student the entire time. This is so, when I didn't in fact go to the gym at all on my own and also ate Real Food on top of it, when I weighed in and Grant says "wow, no weight has come off, in fact you've gained 10 pounds!" I could be like "how weird! Look how much I've been exercising and eating well!". Plausible deniability and all that.

The oddest thing happens, though. The first week I was a Bad Kid (in reality; on paper I was still a model pupil) I dropped 4 pounds. Grant was ecstatic and praised all my (fictional) hard work.I went back to being a Good Kid, and gained that weight back. How confusing. This past week I was a Bad Kid again (partly because I had the flu and couldn't physically go in to the gym, partly because once I was recovered from the flu I ate everything in sight just because I could), and am now 7 pounds down from my starting weight, 5 pounds down from last week, and 2 pounds down from my previous Bad Kid low.

I'm not too sure what's going on, but I think it's a sign from God that He wants me to be eating buffalo wings.