Pepperoni Psychology

You may wonder why a fellow such as myself would be obsessed with his weight—After all, I exercise a fair amount, and am not under doctor's orders to watch my food intake. I take the stairs instead of the elevator, try to get to bed early every night, and generally avoid gamma rays and Alabamans. By most measures used to determine health, I am solidly in the green zone. (Well, physical health, that is. I suspect that getting me 100% mentally healthy would take the combined forces of Dr. Phil, Anthony Robbins, and the Robot from Lost in Space.)

And it's not like I'm in line for a leading role in the next Indiana Jones movie, and have no contractual obligations to remain svelt in my role as an aerospace company technical editor. So why do I worry about one crummy weekend of poor dining discipline?

Well, mostly it's just because I tend to be obsessive about stuff. Oh, nothing that will ultimately improve my earning power or stock portfolio -- just silly little stuff like Simpsons/Star Trek trivia, making sure that no bread surface is visible under the peanut butter, and eating all the nasty-flavored gumdrops before starting on the good ones. (Am I the only person on the planet who doesn't like Spearmint? C'mon, dudes -- more red ones, fewer green, OK? And you can skip the white ones altogether, as far as I'm concerned.)

I'm obsessive. So I check my weight. I have a target...a weight at which I think I will look more like a swimmer and not so much like a channel buoy, and I've been trying to get there for a couple of years now. When I was in college, I could eat everything and not gain a pound, but my metabolism has shifted in the decades since then. I can no longer consume everything in sight without consequences.

And I do have performance goals, too. I'd really like to improve my time at the Horsetooth 10K lake swim this year. This is a bit of a double-edged sword, though, because some folks believe that a little extra fat helps with retaining warmth in cold water, and adds to swimming speed because of the additional buoyancy. I'm not sure that such hypothetical advantages compensate for the very real fact that it takes more power to accelerate a larger mass. (Learned that from Star Trek, so it's gotta be true.) I really think that I'd swim better ripped than I would as an amorphous blob.

Anyway, since we had no swim practice on Sunday, I swam on Monday morning. The water was too warm for my tastes, but I worked hard. And then on Tuesday, I lifted weights and rode the stationery bike at the gym in the morning. Two days of good, calorie-burning exercise...I should be losing weight, right?

Well, not exactly. See, one of my other obsessions is not letting leftover pizza go to waste...so I've been eating pizza for several days in a row. And I love pizza! I even took off from work for part of the day on Tuesday so I could edit a video I'd made on how to cook a pizza. (Note: I'll be posting that within the next couple of days.)

Video editing does not burn many calories. So why am I spending all this time making a video that very few people will want to watch? Why put hours of energy into a project about food, fergawhsakes, especially when I'm trying to drop pounds so that I can race well?

I'm not completely sure. I like making movies -- after all, that's the topic of the degree I earned in college. And maybe I do have a bit of an Indiana Jones fantasy thing going on after all—I wouldn't mind being a movie star. Heck, I wouldn't even mind being that loud obnoxious informercial guy that sells those hooks you poke through the wall. I truly enjoy being in front of a camera, or behind it...it beats the heck out of sitting at a desk. And I guess I must feel the same way about editing, because I did just spend most of the day sitting at a desk doing exactly that. Geez.

Where is Dr. Phil when you need him?

Oh well. I may be weird, chubby, and more than a little bit crazy, but I sure am having fun. I hope you are, too.

Have a great day!