Skinny and stupid

With less than 24 hours before the final weigh-in, I figure that it is safe to reveal my strategy to win Thinspiration XXL on September 19.

One week before final weigh-in: eat All Bran and little more

I started making All Bran cereal a healthy start to my day in the hope of cleaning house. I have also avoided eating anything with an indeterminate calorie count to ensure that I consume less than 1300 calories each day. This has meant shunning restaurants, and most social activities. Dieters walk alone.

96 hours before final weigh-in: go for a run

While I have been commuting to work by bike practically every day (30 minutes each way), nothing burns calories like running. I went for a run for the first time in months, and I instantly lost pounds. Much of it was water weight, of course, but running succeeded where All Bran failed.

72 hours before final weigh-in: laxatives

Since cutting down my daily caloric intake (1117 is the record), my body has had trouble maintaining a normal temperature. My skin tells me that the air is comfortable and yet, my hands could double as a frosty mug. Walking briskly to bring my body temperature up has become a necessity, but more intense exercise like running has become dangerous. Taking laxatives allow for the evacuation of excess baggage in a safe, seated position.

24 hours before final weigh-in: cut out carbs and salt

A steady diet of protein appears to have resolved the body temperature issue, but a new problem has come up: I am losing my mind. I feel lightheaded, get tired from walking, and have become a cranky pants. Thorn has resorted to patting me on the back before putting me to bed and burying my plaintive whines under the duvet.

Hours before final weigh-in: cut out drinking and enter the sauna

I do not intend to drink any liquids prior to the weigh-in and I will take on another seated position strategy to weight loss: the sauna. Thorn will be present to take me to the final weigh-in, should I fail to carry myself there due to loss of consciousness.

You've been struck by a Smoothie Criminal

There was a time when breakfast was a fried egg sandwich or scrambled eggs and pork sausages. If I was in a rush, I would pick up a Tim Hortons breakfast sandwich or an Egg McMuffin. If I was really in a rush, I would skip breakfast entirely.

Those days are no more. I've started making smoothies this week. It's the lazy man's way to pack fruits and vegetables into your meal. The jolt of fruits and veggies is a good boost at the beginning of my day. Royal Pinguo also likes it.

DIY breakfast smoothies are awesome because it ups your fruit/vegetable intake and displaces the greasy and/or caffeinated junk that people normally have for breakfast. You get to choose what goes into the smoothie too! This morning we had an apple-kiwi smoothie which was pretty awesome. I threw it together since we ran out of oranges last night.

Now the sign of a healthy smoothie depends on your fruit to vegetable ratio. More vegetables are better. Currently my smoothies are 90% fruit, but I'm working on introducing more vegetables to the mix gradually. The extra fiber is also handy for reasons I won't mention...

P.S: Thinspiration XXL Finale on Sunday! Join us live at the Musket for the Thinspiration XXL after-party. More debauchery than a TIFF after-party, I guarantee you!

Fatty Weigh-in: Week 11

No weigh-in today because the Final Weigh-in takes place this Sunday.

We will have the opportunity to force Doctor Cook to weigh in. He might still be 166 lbs right now. We don't know.

Can readers suggest an appropriate penalty for Doctor Cook's shoddy participation?

Status Update: One for the Ditch

Beer Gut of Sloth (Heavy Dwarven Armour):
Fatigue +15
Armour +1
Constitution +50
Speed -20
Dexterity -100
Strength Modifier 0.000001

At this particular moment I remain boned.

Major holes recently punched into my ability to maintain or lose weight:

Montreal is behind me and with it, my ambition to run for the time being. Calling it burnout is a bit of an understatement.

GWN dragon boat race is over. My 9th season of racing is done. Our team closed out the beer tent, being politely booted out as the staff packed up and the sun went down we were the last team standing and quite nicely pickled. Liquid calories abounded as we were celebrating a fun season and finishing off in style.

What this truly means besides the fact my liver is blue is that all that extra exercise from practices to work off my binges is now absent. My binges were rationalized before, now they are not. I am also struck with the new-found free time I don't quite know what to do with yet. If only fleeting this feeling of free time initially drops on your head like a mountain of bricks and is alarmingly disorienting.

Options? I have the usual new apartment stuff that needs attending to still, can go for a run, can maybe catch a movie ...

BUT! *there's always a but.

Halo: Reach is finally here! The prequel endgame of the Bungie era in Halo games, and it's very very fun. If anything will make me take Dragon Age out of my xbox drive and plant my ass immobile without fail it's a new Halo. This represents an incredible opportunity to expand my belly overhang in ever greater dimensions.

Free Time = Video Game Sloth

Eating out. Until very recently I have spent a very little amount of time at home due to the events I've been attending/competing in. So I have been eating humongous portions elsewhere and although yummy, seeing the sodium, sugar and fat levels in most tasty restaurant meals are something to make one's eyeballs shrivel and I'm glad those details aren't listed on the menus yet. I enjoy cooking but my fridge is empty, have to hit the veggie stands and restock the freezer.

Now it's time for me to get off my ass and re-begin my training in other forms and with a new resolve as I'm calling my grace period for recovery (translation: laziness) from the run officially OVER.

In weight loss news

• A new study finds that success, and not looks, makes heterosexual women feel inferior, "triggering an urge in heterosexual women and gay men to eat less and try to become thinner."
  

"The opposite was true for heterosexual man and gay women. They showed no change in their eating habits when exposed to stories of competitive, high-status men and women."

• A nutrition expert has lost weight on a controlled diet of junk food and plain vegetables. For three weeks, Mark Haub's diet has included Little Debbie Pecan Spin Wheels for breakfast, Hostess Twinkies for lunch, birthday cake for supper and Doritos for dessert.

• Weight loss is a summer past time. Since Fall's arrival, I feel cold, almost all of the time. Now, I know why cold climate cuisine usually consists of hearty stews and alcohol.
  

Lady Gaga tempting me with cannibalism

As fashion and art critics chatter about the meaning of Lady Gaga wearing a meat dress to the MTV music awards, I say the message is obvious. It is an endorsement of cannibalism. Yet another attempt to coax the members of Thinspiration XXL to put on calories in a socially-unacceptable manner. The mainstream media constantly bombarding us with images of people covered in food, it's only a matter of time before a cannibalism outbreak occurs... and I will be wagging my finger at all of you! (Or grabbing a knife and fork... I haven't decided yet.)

Grams, ounces, WTF

I recently posted a visual chart of what 200 calories looks like and while others may marvel at how a cornucopia of broccoli could equal 1.25 hot dogs, this is the stuff of portion control nightmares.

In anticipation of attending Canada's Largest Ribfest, I attempted to figure out how many calories each rib would equal. This search for seemingly simple information resulted in this:

3.5 oz (100 g) = 340 calories

What?

396 calories in one very large, American style BBQ pork spare rib

Is that a single rib?

1/4 rack with sauce (140.0 g) = 280 calories

I give up! (gnaw furiously at rib)

I eventually found a website that was kind enough to give me information in terms I understand: "There are approximately 388 calories in three BBQ pork spare ribs."

The struggle to figure out what ounces and grams look like on my plate continues in all aspects of my daily diet. In moments of laziness, I resort to eating pre-packaged foods like granola bars and microwavable dinners because they give me a clear calorie count.

The fact is that dieting is not conducive to a good social life. The Ribfest, preceded by four nights out of the house, resulted in the expected weight gain, because it was impossible to count calories. For example: Beef with bitter melon

Beef (1/4 cup) = 80 calories

Bitter Melon (1/4 cup) = 6 calories

Bits of onion = negligible?

Yummy sauce (1/4 cup) = ???

Unknown vegetable (?) = ?????

Oil = :-(

Plus, what kind of wet blanket whines about calories while poking suspiciously at one's entrée, or eats salad?

The recent proposal to mandate calories in menus will take away the blissfully ignorant feeding frenzy that diners enjoy, but it may be the only way I keep my weight down and keep friends at the same time.

Still, nutritional information, no matter how widely distributed, will prove useless if portions continue to be measured in what might as well be Swahili.

Food Effigies and You

You are what you eat. Or so they say. I pray that this is not true, as my food effigy this week is not pretty. Note: Some food products were 'mooooo're prepared than depicted.

In light of my vow to indulge this week, I have done just that. The consequences have been dire.

1) I have forgone vegetarianism, with dire consequences to my digestive system. Who knew that a scant few weeks would be enough for my system to become completely inadequate at digesting meat?

2) I have forgone sobriety, with dire consequences to my bank account, my digestive system, and also to my liver. Shut up in there you. At least you can regenerate!

3) I have survived a complete day solely on a diet of peanut butter, with dire consequences to my digestive system. This has not been your week, has it large intestine?

4) I have nonetheless discovered that despite this week of binge eating, magically, I can fit into size 31 waist jeans instead of the size 34 parachute pants I was squeezing into earlier. I can even fit size 30, though with dire consequences to anyone who happens to look at me. Thank you Kate Moss for your thinspiration! Anorexia is king!

Survey results: What desperate last minute strategy will competitors use?

• dehydration - 0 vote (0%)
• laxatives - 2 votes (33%)
• Kichadi fast - 0 vote (0%)
• blood donation - 3 votes (50%)
• organ donation - 1 vote (16%)