Vegas Pool Shape, Part 383474555958485858594948485884844.1.

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Here we go again.

Going on another Vegas diet tomorrow. 25 days to get myself down to something resembling shape. I'm hovering somewhere around 250lbs now, at least 30 pounds overweight.

I've gotten really good at conquering one of my willpower lapses in life for Vegas, that being saving money. I have no issues putting aside as much as $700 a check when coming down to the end of a saving cycle (like I'm in now). I've almost always lived paycheck to paycheck, Vegas has inspired me to save like never before.

Food is another story. I'm so addicted to crappy food that when I got out of the hospital after having a heart attack 6 years ago (largely caused by a fucked up diet) the first thing I did was to go get a big gnarly burrito (to be fair, though, the hospital food was ass). I've always eaten terribly. Whatever I want and as much as I want, which usually means meat and cheese and fat and sugar and...you get the point. Since the HA I've substituted a good diet for taking enough heart and anti-diabetes drugs to counteract the shit I take in.

The drugs keep me in relative health, but they do nothing to keep me from getting fucking fat. I'm 6'2 and just generally BIG, and always have been, but at the height of my tennis playing days I was probably down around 180. I've never had a 6-pack, nor do I aspire to one now at age 45, I just want to not look like Vince fucking Wilfork.

So I figure the realistic goal before Vegas (since I've waited this long to start) is to lose 10-15 pounds and fit comfortably into my 38 waist jeans without having a muffin top explode over them as it does now. I assure you, muffin tops on 45 year old men are far from cute. The key of course will be maintaining it, which means getting down eventually in the 215-200lbs range.

The plan is to go shock therapy in the first few days and cleanse out all the crap with a Clif bar for lunch and Odwalla Super Food, and ONLY Odwalla Super Food, for dinner. Then ease back into the same lunch and maybe a BLT or something sensible for dinner, and fruit instead of the normal fucking chocolate for snacks. I've cleaned out my "pantry" of all the normal crap I eat and am ready to go tomorrow.

So for this trip, it means not instantly repelling the girls. For the July/August trip, maybe it means I'm a bald George Clooney and I'm fighting off Kardashians.

Which, frankly, I would do even if I WAS George Clooney.

UPDATE:

 Naw, fuck it.

I tried to eat better the last two weeks and if anything I GAINED weight. I'm tired of trying to be something I'm not. I'm a slightly chubby guy. I love eating. It's one of the chief pleasures of my life, and I'm not going to live on fucking carrots and vinaigrette.

If I never get laid again at least I didn't deny myself cheesecake.

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