Welcome Earthling

Welcome to my Blog. For now this blog is about my own personal health, fitness, and appearance. Maybe after this initial adventure is out of the way it will turn into something else. But for now it’s just about me and my belly.

I will be sixty five years old on October 22, 2012.

That is the reason for this blog. I want to turn 65 in style. I don’t want to be one of those pot bellied old farts who have given up on life and on looking good.

About ten years ago I had a body transplant. At least it felt like a body transplant. I was working with a man named Yvonne Cornier, a professional body shaper. Not a body builder. A body shaper. He had the body of a Greek statue, a body that would have given Michaelangelo wet dreams, a perfectly sculpted and shaped physique. So I said to him, says I, “That’s fine for you. You are a young man. But every guy I see who is my age has a pot belly. It just goes with the territory. It’s part of aging.”

“No it isn’t,” said Yvonne.

“You mean I could lose this belly and look good?”


“How long would it take?”

“Eleven weeks.”

“Really? Eleven weeks?”  I gave that some thought for a few seconds, about as long as it takes to think “I could do eleven weeks in solitary confinement. I could do eleven weeks standing on my head. Eleven weeks is only….(counts on fingers and toes) …. a week less than three months. That’s nothing. So, before I had time to think about it, I said, “Sign me up.”

So I went on Yvonne’s program. And it was like having a body transplant. I would wake up in the morning and run my hands down my body and it was like, whoa. Where did this come from. If felt so good.

That was about ten years ago now. Maybe longer. My new body lasted quite a while, but not as I let the habits slip and fell back into my unhealthy and fat producing eating patterns. Now I’m again a paunchy old guy, and I don’t like it. I don’t feel comfortable. How any of those guys who are much worse than I am can stand it is beyond me. I have a relatively modest beer belly. But I see guys my age and younger lugging around a large keg. Not something I’m willing to do.

Another inspiration is a picture I saw years ago on the front cover of a senior’s magazine. It was a man with the face of an old fart, but below the neck he had the body of a teenager. An exceptionally well built teenager. It really looked like Photo-shop, but it wasn’t. And I thought, that would be soooo cool if I could look like that at his age.

Well, now I am his age, probably. And I don’t look like that. But I’m about to.

Getting Started:

When I first came up with this plan for my 65th birthday, I calculated eleven weeks back from the date and said I should start at the beginning of July. That would give me all of July, August and September, the requisite three months, plus three weeks in October to really make a push if I was not meeting my goals by then. But I’ve been letting myself go a bit too much, probably in anticipation of the deprivation to come, and I’m down to the last hole in my belt. Doing up my belt is now uncomfortable. I think I need to start early. So probably this blog will go live toward the end of March or early in April.


Register my blog name and set it up with wordpress.

I must buy a good and accurate bathroom scale.

Buy a tape measure (No new project is officially underway if I don’t spend any money on it.)

I need photographs and measurements for the before pictures.

I need to lay out the program, diet, and schedule.

It is my intention to blog this every day, though I’m only going to weigh myself every second day. By the way, weight is not a good indication of success. Muscle is heavier than fat. You can lose a lot of weight, and have a higher fat to muscle ratio than before you started. I’m going to add weight training and aerobics to my program, because, as Yvonne said, “muscle eats fat for breakfast.”

Why Blog This:

Blogging this is an easy way to get myself to keep a record of this adventure, and to make it an adventure.

Blogging this might possibly be of value to other men of my age and situation. Trust me, I’m not a guy with a lot of will power. I love to eat, especially fatty food. I like my nightcap of scotch, or just about anything else alcoholic. If I can take this on and have success at it, others can too.

There’s no reason for packing around a paunch. Let’s see what it takes to get rid of one. By the way, no matter how much heavier you are than I am when I start this, you will probably see the same results I get in about the same amount of time. The fatter you are when you start, the faster the weight will fall off you. Let us hope.

Rules of the Program:

Do some light aerobic exercise first thing when I wake up in the morning. Go for a walk with the dog. Ride my bike. We have an elliptical trainer, so that’s going to be my first choice. I shall start each day with half an hour on the sweat machine.

Drink at least 4 liters of water every day. Don’t drink anything BUT water.

Eat six meals a day. Breakfast, mid-morning, lunch, mid-afternoon, dinner, evening.

A meal consists of a palm sized lean protein, and a fist sized carbohydrate. No fats or oils above what is natural in the food. Protein consists of egg white, beans, lean meat, fish, bean curd, or protein powder with no sweetener. Carbs consist of brown rice, baked potato, and apple, a banana.

No candy.  No oils.  No butter.  No fat.

No cheese or whole milk.  Skim milk is allowed, and I really wish I could get no fat cottage cheese here in China.  I think I need to make some.

Eat us much and as many green vegetables as I feel like eating.

Eat and drink strictly for six days a week. On the seventh day I can have a cheater day. On the cheater day I can mainline axle grease if I feel like it. I can eat junk food, drink coffee, drink alcohol, and just pig out on anything that strikes my fancy.

That’s it.  Simplicity itself, except for getting started and following the program.  Let’s see how it goes.

Getting Ready

If you’ve seen this before and want to jump to my latest post, just click here.

Yesterday I bought a digital bathroom scale.  It took a long time to decide which one to buy, because they didn’t seem to be consistent.  Every time I stepped off and back on again, I’d get a slightly different weight reading.  As much as half a kilo, which is a whole pound.  I’d like my scale to be consistent at least.  After a lot of testing, I finally settled on a model that seemed to give the same result every time, though I’m not convinced it does.  But short of getting a doctor’s office style scale, this is as good as it’s going to get.

We got the scale at Aushang, the large modern grocery store near where we live here in Wuxi, China.  It cost 109RMB, which at today’s exchange rate is $17.28 CDN.  While my wife filled the grocery cart, I went off in search of a tape measure, the flexible kind used in dress making.  After a lot of wandering up and down the aisles I finally found one.

You can’t start a new project without spending money.

Yesterday and today I’ve been getting this site up and running, setting up the domain registration, installing WordPress for the blog software, putting together the gateway page.  Now I need to have some pictures of my current physical shape, and some measurements.

Official launch of the website and the project is tomorrow, April 1.  That seems appropriate.

This project terrifies me.  I’m going to have to change my lifestyle, and a huge part of me doesn’t want to do it.  I like eating whatever I want whenever I want.  I like my shot or two of scotch before I go to bed.  I love the way the campus restaurant cooks shu tiao, French fries.  Is my current weight and appearance really all that much of a problem?

Well, yes it is.  I’m down to the last hole in my belt.  I’m starting to feel crowded by my own belly, like I can’t really get a deep breath.  I’m starting to lose mobility, having more leg pain and joint pain, feeling more uncomfortable.  I don’t like the way I look, and while I can feel good when I compare myself to many men my age, I am all too aware that I’m packing a lot more pounds than I should be carrying.

But I don’t want to do this.  I really don’t.  Why do I have such a fucking ego that I think I need to look like a teenager?   A part of me is afraid I won’t be successful at this.  I’ll just make a public fool of myself, and blog about it while I do it.  This whole idea is stupid.

And damn it all, I know I’m going to do it anyway.  Fuck.