Tuesday, January 17, 2006
The "F" word
Yup, still FAT, but I'm gaining ground. I bought a scale over the weekend that measures body fat and water percentage. After working out for less than a year, I'm managed to lose about 2% of my total fat and gain about 7 pounds of muscle - Charles Atlas watch out. I'm still at around 22.5% fat, which is on the trailing edge of unhealthy still.
If you think dieting to loose weight is hard, try dieting to gain weight - loose fat - gain muscle mass and still squeeze in a day of work. It's a pretty narrow window to work in because if I exercise like I want to loose fat, I also burn muscle mass, but if I spend my time at the gym building muscles, my cardio workout suffers.
In a million years, I never would of thought that I'd be taking care of myself this well. Eating vegetables, drinking less soda, the occassional bottle of water. I even manage to stop biting my nails when I think about it. I somehow always thought that when the smell of my rotting body finally made the police break open my front door, that I'd be found sitting on the couch in front of the t.v. with a pizza box on my lap.
As a side note: In searching for an appropriate picture to captionize, I can't believe the number of people who prop their cats up on couches with remotes in their paws. One is funny, two is a copy, a thousand is diarrhea.
BTW: Are people who diet but don't exercise called couch carrots?
If you think dieting to loose weight is hard, try dieting to gain weight - loose fat - gain muscle mass and still squeeze in a day of work. It's a pretty narrow window to work in because if I exercise like I want to loose fat, I also burn muscle mass, but if I spend my time at the gym building muscles, my cardio workout suffers.
In a million years, I never would of thought that I'd be taking care of myself this well. Eating vegetables, drinking less soda, the occassional bottle of water. I even manage to stop biting my nails when I think about it. I somehow always thought that when the smell of my rotting body finally made the police break open my front door, that I'd be found sitting on the couch in front of the t.v. with a pizza box on my lap.
As a side note: In searching for an appropriate picture to captionize, I can't believe the number of people who prop their cats up on couches with remotes in their paws. One is funny, two is a copy, a thousand is diarrhea.
BTW: Are people who diet but don't exercise called couch carrots?
