Tag Archives: exercise

How to lose weight you fat shits

I was weighed on Friday as a part of the whole zorbing thing – if you’re too heavy you can’t the ball will explosions death etc you get the point. I weigh 86kg. That works out, for those of you still on Old Units, as 13 and a half stones.

Now, when I began my quest to get fit back in March of 2011, part as a way of distracting my mind from grief, part because being in a relationship where the primary food consumed was butter, I weight a rather portly (I will also accept ‘stout’) 17 stones. I had two chins at the very least, and I often caught myself wheezing. It was unacceptable.

But I have dropped three and a half – two and a half in quicksmart time last year, the extra one in the time from when I stopped regularly working out around November 2011. But it’s not to be sniffed at. I am actually quite proud of it. I look a lot better than I did, and I feel a lot better. I can run for more than 15 minutes when playing football. My knees don’t instantly buckle. I injure less. I get ill less. Did I mention I’ve gone sexy? Because I’ve gone sexy.

But it’s unfair for me to keep this secret of my success to myself, as I know many of you ask the question when you see my transformation. You want in. You want to be a part of it. You want to know how you too can look like a 50s conman like I do (“did”, once, a month ago).

And for the one-off cost of just $29.95, you too can know! Oh alright then, free. Here is my step-by-step guide to shedding a fair bit of weight and ending up a better person as a result.

Step 1
Change your diet entirely so you don’t eat anything that’s bad for you. “WAAAAH” you cry. Nothing. Ever. No treats. None of that shit. When you’ve brutalised yourself into a new regime and lost loads of weight, then you are allowed treats. And massive Chinese takeaways.

Step 2
Seriously, put the fork down you fat motherfucker.

Step 3
Exercise. A bit at first, more as you go on. It’s so simple, you don’t have to join a gym, you don’t even have to leave the house. I didn’t. Also you can do it naked if you do it at home, which always adds to the hilarity.

Step 4
Less cheese. Better yet, no cheese you porky numbskull.

Step 5
Don’t break the rules, unless you want to die of Fat at the age of [whatever your age is plus five years].

And there we have it. Simple. Though not necessarily easy. It takes the kind of self-discipline I wasn’t aware I had, and the kind I seem to have lost in the interim. Still, 13 and a half stones. Fuck you, chub squad. I win.

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Back on the Fitness Bus (Of Fitness)

I’m not the kind of person easily influenced by the mere words of others, but… no, actually I am. As proven today, as I accidentally ended up listening to a few different voices around that have asked why I stopped exercising.

I mean, I actually forgot why I stopped – beyond the nine-week program finishing – so I genuinely didn’t know why. Regardless, I ended up accidentally letting these insidious little bastards get under my skin and have, indeed, returned to the world of running about in front of my TV that is EA Sports Active 2.

Yes, I’m back in advertorial territory*.

But I instantly remembered why I stopped before thanks to the miracle that is ‘skipping’ (read: jumping on the spot, sans skipping rope). See, my knackered ankle, which is knackered, is still knackered. And it doesn’t like being jumped on on a hard floor, even with nicely-cushioned running shoes.

Stupid ankle.

Still, might as well carry on. I’m below 200lbs now, so I’d actually be a light-heavyweight/cruiserweight in wrestling. Oh, by the way, I’m going to be a wrestler. Yeah, that’s a realistic thing to aim for.

That, or a space cowboy.

Or just someone who’s happy.

I think we all know which is the most unrealistic of those aims. LOL EMO FAG LOL.

*It’s not an advertorial. I wouldn’t point that out, but I think it’s not that crazy to think it might be exactly what I’m doing. I’m not.

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Phase two of exerciseageddon: nearly initiated

Today I have taken a further step into insanity. While I haven’t actually done any real exercise in about a month – possibly more – I do keep telling myself I will do more. I even threatened to join a gym. But then I thought better of that, as going somewhere for a bunch of large angry men to judge me isn’t something I want to pay a monthly fee to do. I can do it for free many places.

Anyway, I opted for the route all men take at some point: I have bought stuff so I can lift and press and pull and whatever at home. It will accompany my exercise bike and the thing that kicked all this shit off, EA Sports Active (2!) in being used for a bit then forgotten.

On the other hand, I might actually use it all in the second stage. First stage was shedding the blubber, a lot of which (but not all) is gone now. Second stage is to make one arm absolutely gigantic, while the other arm stays the same – weedy and small.

Then, once I have said MASSIVE ARM I can go around the world solving crime with the arm, because I’ve just decided it will have some kind of super crime-detecting power. I don’t know – it’s really good at picking up evidence or something.

Yes, I’ve been playing L.A. Noire.

Well, it will either bring me the recognition I deserve through a life of superheroish crime detection or it just won’t happen, I’ll use the stuff once and then forget about it. £50+ wasted.


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Weight loss: piss easy, apparently

I am now to allow myself a spot of arrogance. It is a window of opportunity that will probably remain quite small, so I have to take the chance when I can get it. As some of you may know from my ceaseless bleating, I have lost quite a bit of weight recently. In fact, I’ve dropped over two stone in two and a bit months. Like I said – I’m allowing myself some arrogance.

What I’m getting at is that I can now be a terrible twat to people who struggle to lose weight, because I have lost a fair amount of poundage and it hasn’t been difficult at all. It took a while and I had to remain committed to a routine, but it wasn’t what I would consider difficult. That seems to be a common complaint – ‘it’s too hard’.

No, it isn’t. You just stop eating shit. You exercise. When somebody asks if you want five more pies, you politely decline the five more pies. Stop it with the cake. When it’s time to exercise, you do the exercise instead of going for a pie filled with cake. I’m well aware how rich and self-righteous this is coming from someone who only just bothered paying attention to their weight, but like I said – I’m allowing myself arrogant time.

I can actually remain like this once the pounds pile back on, though then I’m more likely to be joining in with the crowd who crow on about not being able to keep the weight off. That’s definitely fair and absolutely not hypocritical.

Anyway, yeah – I’m great, you all suck. Stop making excuses and actually make an effort, I’m well good me etc etc etc.

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Losing pounds NOT MONEY HA HA HA

I don’t think I’ve done any kind of update on this and I’m looking for something quick to write, so here you go. I started this healthy eating and doing some exercise (using EA Sports Active 2, as kindly donated by our sponsor… errm… friends… errm… fellow professionals at EA) on February 8 and, as of today, I still haven’t missed a single workout on it. It is still knackering me pretty much every time, but that’s probably because I’m the least fit person alive. Still.

Anyway, I weighed myself at the start, the week after that and the week after that. In total – though the original scales were different to the two I’ve used in a row – I have lost seven British pounds. This is half a stone, or about three kilos. As I am already big and guttish, I do not look different at all. As I am still massively unfit and incapable of anything approaching being sporty, I do not feel very different at all.

So I’m still waiting on that shit people say ‘changes your life’ or the point you get ‘addicted to exercise’. I’m still making myself do it, rather than doing it as a matter of course. But I suppose it is only a couple of weeks in. And to be honest, seeing a number get smaller every week is fun enough, I suppose. Golf scores FTW.

Or: I’ll just not bother any more as of Monday, and take to eating 42 buckets of KFC. MMM KFC.


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