8 lbs Down . . .

. . . at least sixteen to go.

Though it's premature to consider any loss now as a substantial gain. I'm sure through the body's own biochemistry, I'll be fluctuating between pounds as this continues.

Still, there's a solemn victory in the once taut slacks that now fit flat against the front. No discernible ponch seen. (Though the muffin ass remains . . . for now.)

As I mentioned before, I'd made some prior attempts to lose weight. The reason for their failure came in me being too lazy to work out and hoping a diet of all meats would do the work for me. But I was also too lazy to even cook real food so I relied on frozen incarnations of steak and hamburger patties. All of which were loaded in a plethora of sugar and nitrates - adding to the weight they were intended to diminish.

It was about two months ago that The Girlfriend and I went to her parent's home in the southwest burbs. They were going to order us lunch and I was in the swing of this faux-no carb diet above. It's a little emasculating to be a man who asks for no bun or tomato on everything. Or to go down to the corner bar and order a diet coke and whiskey. Something about it emanates a certain type of effort. As well as a certain type of failure. Like having to take a remedial English class. Like having to go about something differently from the others. This is why I made mention that you should keep this to yourself. When The Girlfriend's mom asked what I might be in the mood for, I offered that I wasn't particularly hungry and that their decision should be of their own. The Girlfriend tells her mom that I'm not eating carbs. "Oh," her mother says looking at me before turning to a menu she holds in her hands. "Well . . . this place has chicken?" I try to tell them that my diet shouldn't factor into where they're ordering from. Her Father enters the room and asks if we've made a decision, "Not yet. (A.v.E) can't eat carbs." Oh, Jesus. Everyone stop. Her father does the same glance over at me before turning to the menu "Is there anyplace that has chicken?" Then the sisters enter and this entire thing repeats itself.

The entire meal was had over the subject of diets. The next Friday The Girlfriend and I went to an all you can eat fish fry and that was the last of that.

Last night the scene repeated itself when I went to pick up The Girlfriend from her book club. Their discussion on Wallace and infinity veered towards diets and my name was mentioned. Within minutes of arriving my ear is being talked off by a kinesiologist who won't shut up about the detriment I'm imposing on my health. After ten minutes of this, she steps outside to have a cigarette.

This is why you've got to keep it secret. Wait for someone to notice on their own that you look particularly gaunt, not shove it in their face with constant requests for microwaved vegetables or handfuls of corned flakes. Why? Because people are haters by nature and they will try to destroy you. Right now, you're Ayn Rand's protagonist. Your brilliance (in abstaining from sustaining foods and pushing your body to dangerous boundaries) is a threat to them.

As I was walked to my office, I noticed it in my step.

It was back.

My swagger.