Matrimony Fit Club, Day 1

My wedding on August 5th, 2006 is little more than six months away.

Only half a year.

Crap!

I need to get my act together.

Yikes. I'm starting to resemble Santa Claus in more than just headwear choice.

I've mentioned my ongoing battle with the bulge in several blog entries from way back. Unfortunately, I've been on-the-wagon/off-the-wagon for fitness so many times, my metabolism has pretty much thrown up its little metaphysical hands and said, "Ah, screw it!"

But I can't give up. In fact, I need to get down to changing my ways immediately, because I really don't want to appear at my wedding as Blubber McManboobs. No thanks.

1998, in my fighting trim: 5-mile-a-day jogger and hovering somewhere in 180 lbs. land. Yeah, that sexy beast in the middle was me!

1999, Stud Muffin, or Creepy Hooters Regular? Who can know for sure?

1999, Apparently, I was also quite popular with the boys as well...

Ahh, 1999... when life was simpler... and my waist was narrower.
And I only had one chin...

So what happened? How did this virile, athletic man matamorphose into the butterball squeezed into an argyle sweater depicted above? In what can only be described as an E! True Hollywood Story-type downfall, Tom's hard-partying ways and having Domino's Pizza on speed dial nearly dashed his rock-hard abs-having dreams... FOREVER!

Tom single-handedly saved a Pizzeria Uno franchise from bankruptcy in Troy, New York, with his semi-heroic deep-dish rampage of 2001. There was tomato sauce and pizza crust everywhere...

Outside this Troy, New York restaurant a memorial was erected to commemorate that historic day. Two dish washers lost their lives that day. Often mistaken for a hubcap museum, it actually features every empty pizza pan Tom ate from.

Late nights drinking Sapporo and singing Karaoke with drunken Japanese businessmen packed on scores of empty calories... and left an indelible tie mark on my forehead. And yes, that's Al with a beer.

Ninja-like, the flab on my chin decided to expand and slowly annex part of my neck...

Descending into a destructive cycle, Tom's ten canoli-a-day diet soon proved disastrous... and the undershirt/hairy chest look wasn't too pretty, either...

To "throw down the gauntlet," is an expression, meaning, "to issue a challenge." Depicted above is an actual gauntlet, which armored knights wore on their hands during the Middle Ages. It's a visual gag.
And yes, it's not very funny.

So, upon reviewing the damaged state in which I've found myself, I decided that enough is enough. The guantlet has now been officially thrown... at myself. As of right now, I'm tipping the scales at a completely unacceptable 245 lbs. My waist is an unforgivable 43 inches. My chest is an unflattering 49.5 inches. And any other measurements I'll just keep to myself. But anyway, now that it's not a secret, you won't have to wonder why I'm not going for the 40 buffalo wing platter at Hooters anymore, or that I'm not inviting anyone over for weekly Crisco eating contests (boy, that was a bad idea! I guess hindsight is 20-20, right?)



So, now that the challenge has been presented, I've decided to swallow my pride (Heck, I've pretty much swallowed everything else these last six years...) and signed up for Weight Watchers. I'll be trying my hardest to stay on track for the next six months... and more importantly, to change my lifestyle permanently: to eat healthier, and to be more active.

Here are two links that might serve as a montage for my fitness regimen... Hans 'n' Franz.

I'll share my progress in one month!

Feedback Question of the Day:
"Wish me luck!"