Bean's Entry

So, apparently Jodi (aka Hig, Higgie, Yicket, Showrosherie) wants me to contribute to her blog. At first I was concerned by this request because I thought becoming a blogger would mean I'd need to join a local dance group (and I am NOT getting sucked back in to that lifestyle!). However, apparently she just wants me to comment on things I never said (most of her speculations on what I'd write about were actually comments made by Ken, Dad, or Sir Archduke Frances Ferdinand).

However, since I have a new year's resolution to not be pushed around by older siblings anymore (mainly Barb) I have decided to ignore Jodi's request and write about something I'm very passionate about: Jodi's cats. Personally I think Stitch, or Baby Bear as he likes to be called, is cultivating some bad habits. I'm particularly concerned about his timid behavior immediately after Darren throws something at him.

Okay, I don't really want to talk about Jodi's cats anymore. I want to talk about change. However, I'll introduce the topic by talking about my first love- fast food. Wendy's and Mcdonald's are the reason I am overweight and probably the primary reason I am still single (slightly edging out the fact that I giggle like a 9-year-old girl whenever Night Court or Benson is on). I eat out multiple times every day and have done so for the past 15 years. I also travel about a week a month and during those weeks I eat quantities that Michael Moore wouldn't believe.

So now I've signed up for a half-marathon and I go to the gym every morning and I have a really serious face and I say things like "This time I'm losing the weight" and "I'm not kidding around anymore". I do this every few months or so and then I inevitably crash and spend a weekend sleeping on the floor at Pizza Hut. What makes this time any different? Benjamin Franklin said it's insanity to continue to do the same things and expect a different result. Am I doing anything really different?

The bigger question I would like to propose, dear 1.2 readers, is whether or not change is actually possible. Last fall I read a book by Alan Deutschman titled "Change or Die". In the book he questioned whether or not change is even possible after a certain age. He asked ,"if an authority figure you trusted (like a doctor) told you that you had to change your lifestyle or you would die in six months - would you change?" Chance are 90% that you won't/can't. He then cited several recent studies that demonstrate how he came up with that.

The book really upset me because I know change is possible. Just about every person on this earth that I admire has altered (changed) their life's direction because of a genuine desire to be something more tomorrow than they were yesterday. To do something more. To sacrifice something important for something more important. However, this book with its sobering data coupled with my recent 9,453 failed attempts to stick to any kind of a diet/exercise program really gave me a wake up call. Change is possible, but change is HARD.

My goal to lose some pounds is a very important goal to me. My desire to change grows every time I fail (which currently stands at 9,453 times). It's more than a physical goal for me; I want to be a person of discipline and commitment and I think it's only reasonable that my body should be an example of that.

I don't really know where I'm going with this blog - perhaps I should have stuck with Jodi's cats. I'm meeting with a nutritionist tonight and I'm hoping it's a positive experience. If anyone has any thoughts on change I'd love to hear them. I'm a sucker for inspirational stories. Especially ones about cats. Bean out.

My map

I plan to walk, crawl, elliptical, stairmaster, swim, treadmill, wog, jog, breakdance and hopefully eventually run across the United States. I'll post my progess on occasion.