Rob Ford is such a big fat idiot. Look at him sitting there. He looks like he’s wearing a Polish sausage as a scarf. He’s probably rubbing bacon grease into his hands because he’s too fat and stupid to get up off his fat ass and grab a napkin.
The thing is, I’m pretty fat myself. I’m not 330 lbs. fat, but I weigh way more than I’d like. I’ve always been big, but seven or eight years ago I lost a bunch of weight, dropping from 280 lbs down to 190. That was awesome. I could and did run 10k on a regular basis. I could climb stairs. As can be expected, I gained some of that weight back, but I stayed under 210 for many years, until Becca became pregnant with our daughter, Emmylou.
Stress has played a factor, that’s for sure. And when she was pregnant Becca was eating weird things, so I ate them too, and more. I went on a long-term medication that included weight gain as a side effect. I’ve been exhausted for the last three years, so on more than one occasion the ease of a bag of chips trumped, you know, making food. And then there’s the stress. I eat the hell out of my stress.
I have no idea what I weigh right now, and I don’t really want to. I know enough to know that the number isn’t really the important thing. The way your clothes fit is a better indicator than a scale; so is the ability to climb a flight of stairs.
Most important is being able to play with Lou without having to sit down, or feeling like my heart is going to expand and blow up inside my chest. I do pretty well; we run a good portion of our day, but there’s no denying that I’m a perfect candidate for a heart attack. I keep thinking of that scene in The Godfather where Don Corleone has a heart attack while playing with his grandchild in the garden. It’s one of my favorite scenes in any movie ever (it makes me cry like a Bieber fan) but picturing myself lying amongst the tomato plants is terrifying.
(Grab a hanky and check it out:)
In an attempt to avoid this fate, I’m going to take big fat stupid Rob Ford’s Cut the Waist Challenge, and represent the Arts community. The way I see it, all it’ll take is Ford stealing one piece of candy from some toddler at an event somewhere and he’ll be off the wagon, chasing liberal councillours through the halls of city hall, tackling them to the ground and gnawing on their BBQ sauce slathered femurs.
I know a few things: Walk, walk, walk, and bike, bike, bike; but watch out for motorists, because -in Toronto- the roads belong to them. Eat fibre; it fills you up, cuts your cravings and makes you poo better. Eating less sugar is more important than eating less fat, although eating less fat is good, too.
Any actors, writers, artists, etc, etc, who want to join me should comment or send an e-mail to firstname.lastname@example.org… I’d love the company. We can share tips, and call each other at 3AM to be talked out of shotgunning Nutella.