Friday, March 30, 2012
Operation Beach Body has officially concluded. I have put away the tape measure, the Foreman grill, and the Vitamin D-3 tablets. I began this quest January 9th at a body weight of 202.8 pounds. This morning I weighed in at 179.8. I'm no math whiz, but I believe that amounts to 23 pounds lost in 12 weeks. For a 41-year-old with a more than moderate drinking habit, I am in reasonably decent shape. I can, at the very least, confidently rock a swimsuit. Sunday morning, my wife and I will board a plane for Riviera Maya, Mexico. Between now and Easter Sunday, there will be no more counting calories or restricting carbs. Anything goes. We will spend a week swimming in the Caribbean and eating decadent resort foods of varying ethnic origins. I will drink copious amounts of crappy Mexican beer. My pale English skin will prove impervious to the tanning powers of the tropical sun. Barring abduction, natural disaster, or death by food poisoning, I will return stateside next weekend and resume blog activities with a proverbial vengeance. I've got a review of the new Teenage Frames EP in the can, plus a list of greatest Dirtnap Records albums in the works. I'm planning a battle of the Pauls. See you all in ten days. Should I not make it back alive, I would like "All This and More" by the Dead Boys to be played at my memorial service (just because it would be funny). And by all means, if I run into Jimmy Buffett, I'm taking him out!