Dumping Ground

Okay, I'll admit it: I've been dieting for the last month. It was something that I've wanted to do -- uh, desperately needed to do -- for a very long time.

I've always known that weight loss wasn't something I could accomplish all on my own. I'd need to be accountable to someone who could teach me healthy eating habits and monitor my progress.

And that's been the rub for years. It takes a lot of courage for me to admit to another person that I need help. It's kind of comical, really -- a 300 + lbs. guy who was afraid to tell anyone that he needed to lose weight. As if no one would notice if I kept my mouth shut, right?

I finally chose a weight-loss center that didn't require me to buy supplements or special food. Because the way I think of it, a diet is something you have to be able to live on. You can't starve yourself until you reach your goal weight and then go right back to the Golden Arches. The plan has worked for me so far: I never feel like I'm starving, I feel a lot better physically, I've dropped 21 lbs. and my blood pressure is down.

I also benefit from the accountability of the center. I have to go weigh-in three times a week which gives me that little extra push that I need to stay on course. The clinicians also ask me questions about how the diet is going, etc. One question that never fails to crack me up though is "When was your last bowel movement?"

I understand that when you're weighing a person three times a week that the amount of stool they're carrying around can throw all their measurements off. But c'mon -- even for the most noble of purposes, how should I respond to that kind of question?

Sometimes I make jokes:

"Just an hour ago. It was GREAT!"

or

"I haven't since yesterday. It's as if I have a cork inside of me. And I'm not one of the 'one in seven guys' who enjoys that sort of thing!"

or

"Just what exactly constitutes a bowel movement?"

I can always get one of the clinicians to laugh, but the other two somehow are able to maintain a stoic expression akin to a Buckingham Palace Guard. So I sheepishly whisper, "Today," as I stare at the floor.

One time I was horrified to answer the question because I hadn't gone since the day before. So I did what any well-adjusted college graduate would do: I LIED. I don't know why, but I was just too embarrassed to admit that I hadn't gone to the can since the day before. It's not like I expected her to call the police or put on a pair of rubber gloves and bring out a hose. Which one in seven guys enjoys, by the way.

Isn't it strange how embarrassed I get about normal things? (It just occurred to me that although I obsessively blog about most everything, it took me more than a month to address the diet in the blog.)

So here it is, world... I'm going to come clean about myself: I'm fat, I'm on a diet, and I have bowel movements... but not everyday!