Even I don't always agree with my opinion

 

Dieting Makes Me Gain Weight

1
Posted July 5, 2011 by jim young in Lifestyle

– jim young

I’m fat. I know I’m fat so you don’t have to tell me I’m fat.

Like Kerry-Ann did in Jamaica.

Kerry-Ann was on the entertainment staff at the resort we were staying at. She bumped into me as I came out of the pool, looked at my belly that was hanging over the top of my bathing suit and said, “You’re too fat.”

I just looked into her beautiful Jamaican eyes and said, “You’re too cute.”

That was about 40 pounds and several years ago. I’m fatter today, but I’ll bet she is getting less cute every year.

I currently weigh 222.5 pounds. That’s the most I’ve ever weighed.

The least I have ever weighed was 6 pounds 8 ounces.

I realise that’s quite a range, but that was nearly 60 years ago.

I was cute and cuddly then. Now I’m just cuddly.

My doctor knows I’m fat too, but he doesn’t say anything to me about it.

He knows I’m fat; I know I’m fat and he knows I know I’m fat.

I think he figures if I want to do something about it I will and I respect him for that.

Doctors who lecture their patients about smoking could learn a lesson from my doctor. Everyone knows smoking and being over-weight are unhealthy but they all have their individual reasons for continuing in their unhealthy lifestyles.

There’s no point in flogging a dead horse – or a dying patient as the case may be.

Several years ago a doctor suggested I was over-weight. I made an appointment with him to get a physical to join the Sebastopol Township Fire Department as a volunteer.

His name was Dr. B. Good.

It’s true. I’m not making up that name.

After Dr. B. Good checked my heart and pulse and poked and probed me in a few places he made some notes, turned to me on this swivelling piano-chair-type stool and asked, “What do you think about your weight?”

“I’m pretty sensitive about it,” I told him, “and I wish you hadn’t brought it up.” Dr. B. Good made a few more notes and then determined I was fit enough to join the volunteer fire department.

But Dr. B Good isn’t my doctor anymore.

My family thinks I should change my lifestyle and get healthier. My lifestyle, I should inform you consists primarily of beer, wings and very little exercise.

This has been my lifestyle for over 10 years.

When I ask my family why I would want to give up this lifestyle they tell me it’s so I can live longer.

I don’t know why they want me to live longer. I can be a very aggravating person. I should think they would be happy to get my beer for me at every opportunity they can so I would get even less exercise and they can rid themselves of me even sooner.

But I love them very much and that’s really why I don’t want to change my lifestyle.

What if I gave up the lifestyle that I love and a year later I was hit by a bus?

It would be a shame for me to leave this world and go to wherever it is that I will be going; resenting my family for talking me into giving up the things I love for nothing.

About 10 years ago I had a stroke. I know I am lucky to be a survivor but here I am.

I had always said, “When I get my first warning, then I’ll get healthy.” After my stroke I tried to get healthy. I really tried. Really!

I weighed 180 pounds at the time of my stroke. My lifestyle then consisted of beer, wings and french-fries.

I gave up all three and dropped to 160 pounds.

But I gradually slipped back into old habits and have decided I will wait for my second warning before I get healthy.

I had a little episode a few years ago and following a few tests the doctor at the hospital told me I have actually had several strokes over the years.

Ooops. Apparently the boat has sailed on waiting for my second warning.

When I quit dieting the first time I expected to go back up to 180 pounds – the weight I was before I started dieting.

But I kept gaining weight until I reached 200 pounds.

I didn’t really understand that because I only went back to my original lifestyle where I was maintaining a steady level of 180 pounds. In fact, I had even thrown out my deep fryer and was no longer eating french-fries several times a week.

Something wasn’t making sense.

Recently, I went on another diet to lose weight. This time I only got down to 185 pounds.

But when I went off the diet – the same thing happened. Instead of going back up to 200 pounds, this time I went up to 222.5 pounds and I seem to be maintaining this new weight now.

My lifestyle remains as consistent as it was when I was maintaining 200 pounds and it hasn’t changed much (except that I eat less french-fries) from when I was maintaining at 180 pounds.

So I can only come to one conclusion.

Somehow diets seem to make me gain weight. Sure, I lose weight when I’m on a diet, but as soon as I go off it, I gain my original weight back plus another 20 pounds.

I figure if I quit dieting, I will quit gaining weight.

– 30 –


One Comment


  1.  
    Steve

    You`re right. If you diet , eventually you get that weight back and more. I`ve seen dozens of people , who smoked 1/2 a pack a day, quit, then start smoking again, only now it`s a pack a day.
    How tall are you ? You certainly sound like a fat bastard. I weigh about 265 but I`m 6`3″. Actually I should say, I used to be 6`3″. I`m now about 6`. I think the weight is pulling me down. Incidentally, I think you posted a picture of yourself on this site at one time and even at 6 pounds 8 ounces, I doubt you were ever cute and cuddly. You were just a fat “little ” bastard. You should know by now your mother`s opinion doesn`t count.
    When my son was quite young , but old enough to understand, I told him he was born a 7` 7″ anus and it took multiple operations to make him normal.He cried. I figured it was worth it, it built character, kinda like ” A Boy Named Sue”.
    As he is 6`4″ and weighs 240 now I`m glad he sees the humor in ol` dad`s foolin` as he could crush my head like a melon.
    Anyway, carry on Jim. Eat what you want, drink what you want. There`s nothing to be gained by being the oldest person in the ” home” when you`re drooling, covered in blankets on a summers day, sitting in your wheelchair , shitting your Depends.





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