Higher Jesus, Higher!

Last week I told you that I was going to try and start eating according to 'The Zone' diet. Well, I had intended on going to the store and gearing up for the first week of being in the zone, but that didn't happen until Sunday morning, so I've not been on the diet for more than 12 hours now, but it feels good so far.

The way you eat breaks down like this:
- Food is broken up into one of three macronutrient categories: protein (for rebuilding muscle), carbohydrate (for sustained energy), and fat (because your body uses it as a lubricant if you will).
- Blocks are used to denote how much of something you should eat to get the correct amount at each meal (1 block protein = 7 grams of protein, 1 block carbs = 9 grams of carbs, 1 block fat = 1.5 grams of fat).
- I'm trying to eat no more than 20 blocks in a day, meaning that at each of my 5 meals, I'm trying to consume 4 blocks of protein, 4 blocks of carbs, and 4 blocks of fat.

It takes some getting used to, but I'm confident that this last 25-30 pounds will come off relatively quickly if I can stick to this diet closely, then I'll reevaluate and determine where I'd like to go from there.

I dropped down to 248.8 pounds this morning. That's significant because last Wednesday I was down to 249.6, and I was thinking that it was just lost water weight, but with this finding this morning, I'm thinking that it's actual fat being burned off. I'm going to start seriously looking at taking creatin (sp?) to build up some more muscle. Who doesn't want to be totally jacked right? Well not me, I'd just like some more wiggle room within my diet.

--End of workout post, beginning of church related post--

Last night at church we discussed more of what we as Christian's should be hoping for about heaven. Both the physical and the spiritual side of things, and how that relates to the bodies that we presently occupy here on earth. Thad didn't go too far into things, so I'm not going to sit here and discuss something I don't yet comprehend, but he did ask a fun question: what is one thing that you're really hoping for when we get to heaven?

Some of the answers were typical:
- Seeing Jesus
- No more pain
- Seeing loved ones again
- Big pearly gates

I had an answer in mind, but in an effort not to look like a total attention whore, I didn't speak up. You know when you have a baby that's about 7-11 months old or so? They are at that point where they are able to interact with you and have fun, laugh, and smile (I do really well with these babies, not so much with the ones who can't yet emote). I love throwing them up in my hands, letting them just escape my grip and then catching them again. The babies seem to love it as well. Well my dream for when I get to heaven is to have Jesus do that with me. Silly huh?

Admissions

Quick update, for those of you who care, and for those of you who don't.

After I failed to flip the big tire 10 times last week, it ate at me inside from Tuesday until Saturday. I convinced Justin to join me on Saturday morning in trying to flip that tire the elusive 10 times.

After a quick bike ride to the Tillery's backyard, and five minutes or so of warming up, it happened. I flipped that baby 10 times in 3 minutes 24 seconds. [EDIT: Time correction.]

It feels pretty good to have finally joined this club!

A Part of the Club

I've been reading about the Explorers Club lately. Seems that these guys are the most intense people out there who have gone the farthest and studied the most. The list of members includes people like Sir Edmund Hillary (Honorary Chair), John Glenn, and some others, including a guy (his name escapes me at the moment, who sailed nearly 5,000 miles on a bamboo raft--just to prove he could. I would love to become a member of a group like this. Sadly though the chances of that happening are slim. You have to do something really cool to get invited to join, and the membership dues are probably steep to say the least. Being a part of an elite group has always been a goal that I'd like to achieve and I'm not picky about which one I want to be a part of.

A couple of weeks ago Brad picked up two massive tires from an old tire depot (I'm not really sure where, but I'm sure there are these 'depots' everywhere, since you see tires all over the place if you look hard enough). One weighs in at an estimated 500 pounds. Large, but small in comparison to the other behemoth that he picked up, the 1000 pound monster. That's not its official name, but for this story it will suffice. Pictured below is a shot of me flipping the smaller of the two, a task in itself, but not entirely grueling to get it flipped over. The monster on the other hand, offers much more of a challenge.

Monday night Brad got together what we'll call, The Brain Trust (Hankins, Morchat, myself, and Tillery), to hold the first-annual-monthly-tire-flip-off (again this name isn't official, rather what I propose we call it). The goal of the FAMTFO, 10 flips of the 1000 lb. tire in 5 minutes.

Rain made the ground that evening quite slick, so doing it either on the grass, or concrete was out of the question. This was a problem since both of those surfaces offered the most grip available, but neither were in any condition to be lifting hefty objects on. So, we made due and used the gravel parking spaces in the Tillery backyard. Not ideal, since rocks tend to slip and move when pressure is applied, but still doable. The tire was rolled into position, and the contest was begun (hopefully Danny will finish uploading the video so we can get going on that stuff soon).

Brad made quick work on the ten flips he proposed to do, finishing in about 2.5 minutes. Jeff also finished 10 flips without much trouble in something like 3:40, Danny being the uber-man-freak he is, got it done in an unbelievable 2:13 or something like that. Woah.

Me on the other hand, I had a bit more, lets say, challenging time flipping the monster tire. My first flip worked a bit better than I had thought it would. The second and third came with reletive ease (there isn't much ease to be found when tire flipping, wow that sentence sounds like it should have come from the mouth of someone from West Virginia or something), and then the fourth flip too happened with only minor toughness. Flip five however never happend. Have I mentioned that tire flipping is really hard? It is. I got four flips, and then just couldn't deliever on the final push. I got the tire up a couple more times, resting the entire weight on my biceps (which are brusied pretty badly from the whole exercise), but as soon as I tried to push the tire over the top, like Stallone dominating every other trucker in the movie 'Over the Top', it just wouldn't move since my feet were slipping on the loose gravel.

Four flips. At the time I was glad that I had at least gotten the tire over a few times. But the more I thought about the event, the more I realized that I should have been able to do more, and probably been able to do the entire 10 flips, or at least half of them anyway. Especially when I started thinking of names like 'The 1000 lb. Club', or '1000 Pounders', both lame, but go with me here, to denote the fact that you had flipped that monster tire 10 times. It ate at me all day Tuesday, and into Wednesday morning. I worked out and then got 5 flips done, an improvement espescially since it was done after an hour of lifting weights, but still not the 10 I really wanted to accomplish.

Being a part of this elite group is the new goal that I'd like to achieve. And it'll happen. I still want to travel the world, but the chances that I'll ever be the first to scale a mountain, or step foot on Mars are nearly impossible. Thinking about all of this membership stuff has led me to the realization that some clubs might be out of reach, but this one, the '1000 Pounders', is a membership that one day soon, I'll be a part of.

Backyard Baptismal

Last night at ComChurch was one of those night's that I am not going to soon forget. We don't baptize people very often in our church, not because we don't believe in the need for it, but because we like doing it outside, and sometimes it just takes some effort to get the entire church to a pool. Yes we often do baptisms in someone's backyard pool. I thought it was weird at first, but after experiencing a few of these backyard baptisms, it becomes a really beautiful thing. For those of you who are used to seeing this occur behind the podium on a Sunday morning, I'd certainly encourage you to break from that mold at least once in your life and see what it's like outside. The water's fine.

The night was good for reasons other than just the baptism as well. We got to swim after the ceremony (is that the right word for what a baptism is supposed to be) was finished. I take t the water very quickly, since most of my childhood was spent in or by a pool. The pool we swam in last night was great too because they had a diving board.

Now for a bit of insight into what it's like to be a big man: you can't jump off of a diving board without the fear of hearing a very large pencil like crack. You just can't do it. Who wants to be the guy that broke the board? Kids would cry. The owner of the board would be pissed that you wasted their money and now they have to go out a purchase a new board. And on top of all that, your embarassed that you were the guy that broke the diving board.

So for the majority of my adult life I've opted to stay away. Erring on the side of caution, and just jumping off the side of the pool and having fun doing that. What a waste of time that was. Diving boards are a lot of fun! You can make large splashes in the water, and kids love that. I feel like a lot of the time that when I'm with my church and around the kids (at our church there are kids EVERYWHERE, like there are always three or four women pregnant at all times!) there are college aged girls always wanting to steal their attention away. I don't usually get angry, because I realize that them and the kids are often closer to each other, babysitting and all, but playing with them is a lot of fun now and then. Cue the pool time. There is no one cooler in a swimming pool than a 20 something guy. Think about it, when you weighed in at a whopping 43 pounds, you could be thrown half way across the pool and swim back to ask for more. I'm more than happy to oblige for the kids, for a time, but after a while it gets boring/tiresome. So for 15 to 20 minutes each time I go swimming I play the part of 'Pool Hero', and enjoy every moment of it.

Weight Loss Update:
This morning I am down to 254 pounds. That's 116 pounds since I started at my estimated weight of 370 pounds. I'm working on a cool visual to really demonstrate how significant this much weight really is, more on that in a later post.

Other exciting news. I've talked for a while now about getting a tummy tuck/skin cut-off operation to take care of all the excess me that is just sort of hanging out right now and being really annoying. Ross asked me how much I thought something like that might cost. And said that if he has the chance, he'll kick some money my way to get started on that fund. This made me feel really really good about not only what I mean to these people, but about what they mean to me.

The fact that I go to church with someone who can understand the significance of having lots of excess skin cut off, makes me realize that backyard baptismals can wash away all sorts of things.

There's Always Something New

I've lived with a bunch of guys throughout my time in college. Freshman year it was Michael Steele. We were friends back home and decided to live together while at A&M our freshman year. I'll admit that I was nervous about this at first, mainly because I wanted to meet new people, and I didn't know exactly how well we were going to get along in the long run. That year I also lived with Ben Love and Aaron Griffin (two of the most ridiculous people you'll ever put in a dorm room together). I learned a lot from those guys, and had more dorm room wars/dance parties than you could count with three peoples hands.

I also lived in a house with 8 guys at one point. It was disgusting. I think it's because at some point you think, "Oh well, someone else can take care of that bowl I just used." That's not a huge deal when there are only four of you in a place, but when there's 8 trying to live under one roof, the problems are magnified 8x, and the bowls eventually run out.

This year is my most mature living situation by far. Not to say that the people I've lived with in the past have all been immature dorks or anything, it's just that we've pretty much all graduated, so gone are most of the things that houses full of college guys would typically do. Now however, we've replaced that, with the young professional* type of living.

To the point. Getting to know someone when you live with them can be very significant. Being friends is one thing, sharing a kitchen, bathroom and living space is completely different. Something happens to me when you start sharing my sink that I'm not sure can be completely expressed in just going to a movie, or meeting for coffee. I see you at your grosest (sp?) moments, your most vulnerable, and your highest highs. In those times I also feel like I'm able to begin to fully appreciate the talents of those whom I am closest to. For instance, Aaron is able to truly love a person (no matter how aggrevating he may seem at times) when they need it the most. He's always there to listen. Britt is extremely intelligent. And Jared can just hang out and be there when you need him the most. Each one of those people means something significant, and I hope I've meant something to them as well.

So Michael and Ben's band, Clairmont, just released their second album this past week. Stength Like Lions is a great accomplishment for them. They've grown in their music and in their faith, its a wonderful CD that you should all listen to (all four of you). It makes me proud to brag about their accomplishments, and to see them following who they are, and where God has them right now.

Justin on the other hand showed me a bit of his talent this morning. He walked in and showed me his youtube video (he say's the word 'damn', so be careful if that offends your ears):



Wow.

I wonder what living with a wife will be like one day? Hopefully she's as funny and insightful as all of these guys that have meant so much to me over the last five years. Only one thing that should really be different, I know she's going to be way better looking than all of them.

*Categorized by trying to live well above your current means. Coming to grips with the fact that staying up all night drinking is no longer a good idea. And girls probably shouldn't be treated as buddies any longer--let the futre wife tryouts begin. Just kidding, sort of.

The EPIC 700

Brad told us today that we were going to join the 700 club. Jared asked if Pat Roberts was going to be there or not. I suggested we all go and just donate money to police and firefighters, little did I know that I was just being a dork, Jared was right, the 100 Club is the thing with stickers on your car.

Workout though was intense. Brian Lee and I did the following rotation for time:
- 250 Squat @ 185 lb.
- 150 Row to Narrow Push Up @ 35 lb. each hand
- 300 Kettle Bell Sumo Squat @ 53 lb.
TIME 43:32

The goal was to finish in 45 mintues. I just barely made it, so needless to say I was relieved when it was finally over.

Last week was tough on eating. I've stayed around the same weight, between 256 and 259 for the past couple of weeks. This week I'm really going to be more careful about what I put into my body and when. I'm still having a tough time with eating carbs late at night. I know that I'm not supposed to do it, but for whatever reason I still seem to justify it in my head for just long enough to do it, and then regret sets in. This week, carbs past dinner will be cut out all together, and lunches will be watched much more closely.

Lets do this!

An Emotion Not Experienced by All

Weddings aren't something guys understand. Sure we have the capability of understanding what the significance of the union between and a man and a woman is, but the 'wedding' as our society has defined it, eludes even the best intentioned of us guys.


Josh Taylor is a good friend of mine. He and his new wife, Whitney, were just married this past Friday evening back in Houston. It was a beautiful wedding, albeit hot and muggy. I think that weddings between the months of April and October in the state of Texas should be required to take place indoors. Sure outdoor weddings are great; trees, grass, a nice breeze, and sunshine make your special day a wonderful photo-op, except for all of the sweat and bugs that often come along with those great pictures.


I have a confession to make. I worry about what clothes I'm going to wear to events like weddings. Strange I know. As a guy I'm not supposed to really take much of an interest in the clothing that covers my nude figure (too graphic?). If you knew me back in high school you'd see how suprising this actually is for me. Back then I saw clothes as nothing more than a way to cover myself, fashion and appearence didn't enter my mind in a very significant way.


Clothing has become a budding obsession of mine. I think part of it is Jared's fault, he is at least responsible for 50% of the blame. He buys GQ magazine and has it sitting around our house on the coffee table most of the time. Jared is partly to blame, but so is my figure that is just now becoming more used to the clothes that mainstream American clothing companies manufacture.


I was shopping with my mom and sister this past weekend and, when a shirt I tried on didn't fit over my shoulders, I came out and announced, "My shoulders are just too big." My mom came back with a real gem though, she didn't even miss a beat, "No Andrew, the clothes were just made too small." This took me a second, for the first time I think this was actually the truth. I wasn't this freak in the mall any more. I wasn't the customer that sales reps spoke with just to shoot the breeze. They actually had the chance of making a sale when I was in the store. Searching feeverishly through the racks for size XXL-XXXL wasn't something I had to do any longer.


This was really an exciting feeling. I had to go somewhere, I had to try something on that had never fit before. Banana Republic, the holy grail of clothing at most mid-level malls. I needed a pair of khakis didn't I? "Something for the weddings this summer," I chanted in my head on the way past the food court, and around the maze of middle-eastern-styled carts dotting the pathways of Willowbrook Mall. And there they were, size 38 bootcut khakis. Let me tell you, they fit like a glove. They weren't tight. They didn't require a hefty breath in to button the top, and zip the fly.


And like guys can't really understand a wedding in the way that most girls understand them, skinny people aren't capeable of understanding fitting into a pair of pants for the first time. It's magical. Like Christmas morning, and your first kiss rolled up into one magnificent moment.


So for all of you skinny people out there (as if there are many people at all out there reading my blog), put on 25 pounds and go to the mall. Try on something that you really want and make sure that it just won't fit (if you need some meal ideas to put on weight just ask, I've got plenty of suggestions). Then, work your butt off and lose that weight just so that you can go and buy that pair of pants that you really wanted back when you were too large. It's a feeling that you can't understand until you've experienced it.

It's an emotion not experienced by all.

Maybe it's the Frisbee?

Today feels so, so very good. It's been about 3 weeks, or so, since I had a realization. It was a painful day, one that I dont really want to relive, but one that I believe at this point has truly changed the course of my weight loss program. I had been stagnant for about 5 months, and it was frustrating. Frustrating for me, for my trainer Brad (I say trainer because that's his job, but in reality he's more of a friend that's helped me out tremendously), and I would venture to say frustrating for my church as well.

One of the things that I started out really desiring when I began to lose weight was that other people were going to be a major part of what I was trying to do. That meant that when I had triumphs (like running my first mile) I included people in on those things. I remember last May, probably around a year ago this week, was the first time Brad took me out to the track and said, "We're going to go for a run." Now let me tell you that this was not met with any sort of excitement, or anticpation. Rather, I was terrified. I didn't like to run, and the mere thought of doing it for an entire mile was really starting to freak me out. However, I finished it, in something like 12 minutes, but I finished. I told everyone. Not just the people I saw that day, but for like a week and half afterwards I told everyone I saw that I had indeed run a mile for the first time in my life.

Along with those triumphs have come some defeats. Like the first time I actually gained weight on the scale. It was last December/January, and it was a crushing blow to who I had become. I was putting so much of who I was into losing weight, that when I didn't drop 2 pounds in a week, let alone gained 5 pounds after the holidays, I was crushed. I shared this as well, and the community responded with a characteristic warm-heartedness that I don't think exists many other places.

As nice as they were though I still felt as though I had been letting people down for the last five months. Brad sensed it as well. He emailed me, we talked, I got pissed and something inside of me really wanted to say, "Screw this! I'm done." They wouldn't let me though. Because they all knew, especially Brad and my roommates, that there was still something inside of me wanting to see this thing to the end.

Bringing us back to the present. We played ultimate frisbee last night, like 4 whole games worth, so needless to say waking up this morning at 5:45am to workout (which invariably means getting my butt kicked by this sicko who takes an odd pleasure in seeing me squirm and sweat) wasn't at the top of my list. I wanted to stand on the scale this morning, but I was nervous. I had eaten a hamburger Monday night at a party, and the guilt was trying to keep me from the scale. We worked out, and I had my butt kicked like it hadn't been in qutie some time (frisbee the night before an intense full body workout is crazy, you should try it for a really sore feeling the next morning), and I knew that I wanted to step on that scale. I did, and there it was 256.3 pounds. Thats 11 pounds since that day that I wanted to quit. Since that day that I felt like I had been letting everyone in my life down for about 5 months, and as of today I feel like it's over. It's a good feeling, a feeling of triumph I haven't felt in some time.

Maybe it's the frisbee? Yeah, it's gotta be the frisbee.

Watching What I Become

When I was at my heaviest I never thought of myself as fat. I guess that's one of the funny things about how we see ourselves, in a low point we often treat ourselves like we know we should be treated on the inside, but on the outside we sometimes can't portray that same respect. I'll explain.

At 370 pounds I knew that my inside's weren't that of a fat person. I would walk through the mall and see someone who was really overweight and think, "Woah, that guy's fat." Or, "Geeze lady, go to the gym." Terrible, I know. I think a lot of that stemmed from the fact that I was still in my very early 20's and the brevity of the weight I carried around hadn't really started to affect me in everyday life. I could still go out and play frisbee with my friends, or play basketball three nights a week. It was my way of saying, I'm just destined to be large. So on the inside, I saw myself as being much more in shape than what the normal person walking down the street would notice.

Slowly but surely what I see in my head, and what I notice in mirrors, or windows (yes, I often look at myself in the windows of buildings that I pass by, just to check) when I look in them is getting closer and closer. No more is there a fear of seeing a picture of myself and thinking, "Oh God, please don't let this be as bad as I think it's going to be. There is a calm self assurance there, and I really believe that is from the self confidence that knowing who you are inside and out has brought.

This next week we're heading to Arkansas to do a bit of backcountry camping. I'm excited to see what I can do with a 50+ pound pack on my back for 4.5 days, and if I can make it to the end of this cave we're talking about going to explore. That and seeing Bigfoot. http://www.gcbro.com/ardb1.htm, this site helps to explain a bit of the mentality that we're heading into this weekend with. It should be sweet.

More to come later.