Day Twenty... After a temporary absence...

I didn't meet my extra mini-goal, which is a bummer. Not a huge deal, though.

Right now, I am 272. That means I've lost 28 pounds in three weeks. So, I'm still on pace for my Segment One goals.

I skipped a few days of blogging due to travel. Sorry if that left anyone in a huge hole in their blogospheric existence or anything. Next time, I'll force myself to check in or something.

I've noticed the "Shrinkarino" and "shrinking guy" Google searches have continued, so I know someone out there gives a hoot about my progress.

The orginal goal was -50 pounds in 60 days. I was secretly hoping for -60, and right now my pace puts me ahead of that schedule. Things are going well.

Maybe I'll cook up some long extended discussion of the trials and tribulations of traveling while on a hardcore diet tomorrow. Perhaps I can cook up a crazy rant.

We'll see.

Day Sixteen... Why did I say that?

So, I lost another pound. This diet and exercise thing is working out okay.

I wanted to be down to 270 by the end of the week. That means I'd need to drop a whopping 9 pounds in about 4 days. Not impossible, but not particularly likely, either.

I'm not giving up on that seemingly insane mini-goal, though. I'll do my damnedest to make weight. Nonetheless, I'm wondering, "why did I say that?" I wasn't required to turn up the heat. Oh, well.

Interesting factoid. I'm not just noticing the weight loss. I'm also noticing an actual decrease in appetite. The first 10 days or so required me to live with being a bit pissed off that I wasn't going to grab a Big Mac whenever the urge happened upon me. That's not the case now. Fewer cravings. Neat stuff.

Day Fifteen... Fat men and women... Beauty myth vs. beauty truth...

I'm a fat dude. I'm on my way to being a non-fat dude, but I am what I am at the moment.

In order to make the transition from orb to rail, I've had to do some homework. I had to research things about diet, exercise, nutrition and (very importantly, I think) the psychology underlying weight loss.

During that research, I've been pretty ethnographic. I joined the official "I'm not ashamed to admit I'm a tubby-wubby (at least online) club" and learned that the bulk of the other heavyweights duking it out with excess fat rolls happen not to share my status as a male.

Women are more "into" the pound-dropping thing than are men. There are some very obvious explanations for that. Some are societal. Others may have a foundation that lies a bit deeper.

We fat dudes can do all right for ourselves despite protruding bellies. Other guys aren't particularly judgmental and women, for whatever reason, are generally cool with guys who are wrapped with a little extra bacon. Even if they'd prefer a thinner, healthier dude they seem willing, by and large, to look past a guy's tendency to order that second Reuben sandwich or to eat a full bag of Doritos in one setting.

Meanwhile, guys are prone to judging women by their size. Fat girls just aren't hot to most guys. Chubby-chasers are a distinct minority and even those men who are incredibly socially aware have an inner voice telling them that, all other things being equal, the skinnier girl is hotter.

Hey, I tend to have a wider perspective than most guys and even I don't think fat chicks are sexy. Most guys snicker a little inside when they see "BBW".

Is that wrong? Absolutely. Appearance and character are completely unrelated. Inner and exterior beauty do not go hand-in-hand. What Naomi Wolf termed the "Beauty Myth" has undoubtedly destroyed millions of lives. It's cruel, wrong, hurtful, demeaning, objectifying, phallocentric and more than a tiny bit evil.

Men should judge women by the content of their characters and not by the size of their underpants. Some of us try really, really hard to do that, too.

And although I am breaking a left-wing, progressive taboo (because, surprise, surprise, I am generally one of those enlightened souls who actually read bell hooks, Susan Faludi, Rianne Eisler, Dworkin, Mackinnon, et al. and finds himself nodding his head in agreement frequently), I'm going to give it to you straight. I'm also a balls-out heterosexist hypocrite.

You don't have to be rail-thin for me to think you're attractive. If you're fat, however, you don't look good to me.

Screw me? Fine. Here's the bigger secret. All of those other guys agree with me. One some level. Even the most enlightened. Even the leftiest, granola-chewing, pony-tailed, Birkenstock dude secretly lusts more for the "conventionally attractive" than he does for the chubster. There are exceptions--outlying chubby-chasers, etc.--but they're rare. If, as a woman, you think you've found an exception... Well, you've PROBABLY found a liar.

Look, I know it's not fair and that it stinks to high heavens, but it's true. My background isn't particularly buttoned-down and corporate. I've lived with women getting advanced degrees in Women Studies from far-left schools. I've spent countless hours with the most feminist of feminists. I've hung with the LGBT community. Protest marchers, enlightened souls, Take Back the Night, "Straight not narrow", damn the patriarchy to hell, etc., etc., etc.

I count among my friends the most liberated and enlightened folks around when it comes to gender biases and our society's tendencies. But guess what? If you get a few organic micro-brews into the guys, they'll 'fess up.

All things being equal, they dig the conventionally attractive women.

That's unfair and it puts extra pressure on bigger women. But, it's true.

In a poll of 1,000,000 heterosexual men, we could ask a simple question...

All other things being equal, would you prefer company, friendship and/or sexual involvement with Woman A or Woman B?

A.



















B.



















If you think "A" is going to get more than a 2% approval rating from a representative group of 1,000,000 men... Well, you're delusional.

The Beauty Myth is the Beauty Truth.

Most of it is probably a socialization thing. Some of it may be a hard-wired thing. Either way, it's the real deal.

To the attractive goes the attention. And the opportunity. And all the rest. You walk a much more difficult road as a fat woman.

I'm lucky to be a guy in that regard. Being a fat dude hasn't been all that hard. No one really cares all that much. Being a fat woman, on the other hand, would be a massive pain in the ass.

So, although this post may have seemed (on some level) to be an assault on the BBW community, it isn't. It's an acknowledgment. The big women who are trying to drop pounds are working toward their goals in an extremely pressurized and intense environment.

I wish them all the best and want them to know how impressed I am with their efforts.

The progressive human being in me wants all of them with an interest in losing weight to do it for the right reasons--health, a feeling of wellness, etc. The bastard male in me can't wait to see an increase in the hottie population.

Am I a hypocrite? Am I trying to have it both ways? Yes. Consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds and I'm okay with the dialectic, you know?

This concludes my crazed rant. Good luck, ladies.

Day Fifteen... Coffee conversation clarifies conditions contributing to constant corpulence...

Ever wonder why so many people find it downright impossible to shed extra weight? Ever wonder why fatties stay that way while others break through the lard wall toward a better bod? I have an answer!

I saw a conversation at a weight loss forum. It was from some chubster who had a tendency to spend time with los amigos in a Starbucks or similar coffee joint. This would-be loser wanted guidance on how to avoid adding to his/her massive belly while at the said coffee shop. The temptation of various potions, creams, milks and sugar syrups was just too hard to resist! What could be done?

There were a few answers about switching from the Mega Sugar Fix Special to something like the Diet Fake Sugar Fix Special. Other advocated ordering a slightly smaller jug of java, etc.

My idea was pretty simple.

Coffee. Black. Less than ten calories in a cup. No fat. Nothing bad happens to the eye-catching basketball you call a gut AND you still get to hang out in some overpriced lousy coffee place with your buds and/or budettes. Problem solved.

I looked today and found that the conversation had grown by well over a dozen responses. They featured wisdom about going from whole milk to 1% (seriously...the idea of skim was unthinkable). They mentioned replacing lattes with Americanos, using only a single squirt of pure sugar juice. Downsize from El Massivo to El Mediumo. Etc.

Along the way, some started mentioning how they'd never go without "their" lattes or mochiattoisimistalattecaramellos. They can't imagine a world without these non-carbonated, coffee-based soft drinks.

That was the case even though many of these commenters are sporting little tickers under their forum signatures indicating a need (or at least a strong desire) to drop a great deal of weight. Here are people who want to lose 50+ pounds, visiting a forum in hopes of finding and dispensing advice and support on losing that weight, and they're not willing to stop drinking chocolate-flavored warm melted ice cream???

Amazing.

L0ok, I understand being hooked on crappy beverages. I've cut pop out of my daily routine after about 30 years of never being photographed without some sort of carbonated death wish clutched tightly in my hands. If I were to cast eyes upon a 35-degree glass bottle of Cocal Cola with those little condensation bubbles slowly rolling down its curves right now I would probably go into a masturbatory frenzy. I LOVE the stuff.

Dare I say that I love "my" pop more than my fellow chubbalords love "their" frappamochiachinolatteslushyespressamericanos-with-whipped-cream? Yeah, I do.

But here's the scoop, my wide-assed compatriots, the shit isn't good for your waistline. It makes you fat. If you are fat and are interested in losing weight, the obvious first thing you should probably do is to stop consuming crap that you KNOW is making you increasingly obese.

Thus, the idea of going from skim to 1% is about as bright as deciding that on your next suicide attempt you'll only take one handful of barbituates instead of two.

If you don't have the gumption to wisen up and say, "I should probably stop drinking chocolatey coffee drinks if I want to stop being quite this grotesque", you're probably doomed.

Doomed to a life of constant whining, moaning, and straining to button up your extra-husky jeans.

Doomed to people wondering whether or not that missing kid on the milk carton (2%, not skim) is actually being held hostage in your stomach.

Doomed to consistently feeling like the fatty you are.

But, then again, maybe going from a 40 oz. drink to a 24 oz. drink will convert you from Terry Forster to Randy Johnson. Maybe cautioning the barrista to mix some skim and whole milk together for you so that you can feel a wee bit less stupid will will set off the transformation from Madea to Beyonce.

I'm betting that the best idea is to stop drinking the crappy stuff altogether. But that's just my opinion, of course. I could be wrong.

I will now return to my cup of coffee. Black. Less than 10 calories. Admittedly, I bought it at a convenience store on my way to the office for a mere $.79 instead of paying $4.50 at Starbucks, so it probably won't be nearly as good as a chaiallentelattemochacarameldoublechocciato, but what the hell?

Day Fifteen... Nothing... Well, that sucks...

Well, it's happened once (maybe twice) before during the first 2 weeks of this crusade to lose 100 pounds, so I'm not really worked up or concerned. Nonetheless, I must regretfully inform you that my scale failed to show a full pound of weight difference at the daily weigh-in. As of Day Fifteen, I am 20 pounds lighter than before this started. No, not 21. Not 22. Not 23. A mere 20.

I suppose I could try to dry my tears with some delightful sour cream and onion potato chips or drown myself in a gallon jug of Mountain Dew. Instead, however, I think I will push onward while believing that I will probably see a 2-pound drop tomorrow.

That's life.

Just gotta work harder.

Day Fourteen... I'm banned... It's Angelina Jolie's birthday... Misery loves company...

A three-part, pre-weigh in extravaganza!

One of the fat-lopping forums to which I belong has banned my link from forum posts. Why, pray tell? Because the pictures I've carefully selected to add to the artistic integrity of each and every post apparently "border on porno" and the site has kids 13-18 visiting who risk being permanently warped by the nubile lasses in various states of undress who adorn this blog.

My defense? I've kept it non-nude. It's PG at worst (okay, maybe PG-13 or R due to some fucking language). It's no more revealing than the bikini shots one encounters at many weight-loss related sites. Etc. Etc. Etc. My real defense? I don't have one. I put up some slutty pictures of hot women to keep myself interested and I don't blame them for saying "shame on you". It's a fair decision.

It's also Angelina Jolie's 32nd birthday. I'm not a real celebrity-worshipping type, but she's fantastically freaking hot and have, as former Prez Carter might say, lusted for her in my heart many times. Happy birthday, good looking. And keep up the good work re: your various and sundry progressive causes. I'm being sincere on all levels.

Misery loves company. That truism seems particularly applicable to chubby-wubbies who want to shed excess weight. People are looking for workout partners, weight loss partners, friends to "come along on an exciting voyage toward better health and remarkable self-discovery", etc.

Again and again, I encounter people griping about how their partners are lousy dieters. They don't do enough work. They're not committed. They cheat by hiding 12-inch meatball subs with extra cheese under their shirt until no one is looking and then consume them in one massive swallow. They quit. Whatever.

I don't get it. I thought the idea behind losing the pounds was generally a personal one. I know it was for me. I want to lose 100 pounds. I have a buddy who could stand to drop a few, too. I have a couple of chubby employees who should consider downsizing. That's their business. If my teetering-toward-obese employee had approached me about being her "diet buddy" I would have told her to stick it up her massive keister. The thought about calling my friend and asking if he'd like to hold hands on the way to the gym never crossed my mind (until ten seconds ago as a comic observation).

I'm prone to think that those who want to really lose weight can and will take it as a personal thing and tend to it themselves. I bet the failure rate among the buddy-system adherents is extremely high.

Yeah, there are probably some people who need that kind of companionship to make it all work and I think it's great if a partnership works for them, but I just have a gnawing feeling in my gut that most of the "I need a buddy" people just aren't really ready to lose weight.

Wait, that gnawing feeling in my gut is probably attributable to the fact that I haven't had anything to eat. I could sure go for a gooey Snickers bar right now... I should call my accountability partner and let him talk me off of this cliff ASAP!

Or, I could just not eat a Snickers bar and accept occasional urges and discomfort.

Hmmm...

Day Fourteen... My fame grows...

I started this blog as a way of keeping myself accountable with respect to my weight loss plans. It's also an opportunity to vent and, hopefully, to gloat a little bit. It's a small cyber-incentive to continue down the path of non-obesity. It's also a nice place to track progress.

It's been working, so I'm going to keep posting until I hit my -100 mark.

What's really neat, though, is that I'm developing a bit of an audience. Hey, I'm not sucking in 1,000s of visitors every day, but my secretly embedded stat counter does indicate that I'm getting a few dozen (up to 50 some days) readers, some of which are becoming regulars.

I've also found people Googling "Steve Shrinkarino" and "the Shrinking Guy". I'm fucking famous.

Anyway, I was thinking about what would make someone read this blog. Here are some potential reasons...

• Curiosity. Someone sees my signature in a weight loss forum and thinks, "what the hell?" This is probably the #1 explanation, but it doesn't account for the repeat visitors.
• Sexy girls. Hey, I put sexy girl pictures up with every post. Why? Because I like hot women. Sexist? A reflection of my inability to escape the chauvinistic tendencies socialized into my monkey-brain in this phallocentric culture? Morally bankrupt? Great to look at? Yes, yes, yes and yes. I doubt this is really the biggest factor, though, as completely naked woman pictures are a dime a dozen on the web.
• Dislike. I know that a lot of people disagree with my approach and that many feel my perspective is completely incompatible with healthy living and proper weight loss strategy. I also know that I am a bit confrontational and possess opinions that run contrary to much of the attitude reflected by the bulk of the weight loss community. Maybe some people are waiting to see how long it takes for me to bail out, admit I was wrong, etc. Sorry, check back tomorrow ill will-wishers!
• Like. Maybe there's a segment of the fat-ass world that shares my sentiments and is rooting for me, or is at least enjoying hearing from a kindred spirit.
• Accident. Maybe my fictional name is the actual name of some Pierre, South Dakota used car salesman. If so, my apologies to the real Steve Shrinkarino.
  

Anyway, thanks for reading. I'll keep writing. Until I lose 100 pounds, anyway.

Oh, and that will happen. You can bet your rotund posterior on that, Slappy.