This morning I went to the gym. Not that going to the gym is something in and of itself to write home about, but this was my first trip to the gym in over two and a half months. An abdominal injury paired with bad iliotibial bands forced my doctor to sign a cease and desist order for all physical activity for two months. Well I now feel good enough to return to my exercise routine, and went to the gym.

Upon walking in, I noticed a new front desk girl. She smiled at me and then scanned my card. She scowled at the computer screen and then scowled at me. Welcome back Mr. Ensor. She condescended. It's nice to see you again. Oh please.

So I stretched and hopped on the scale. Welcome back Mr. Ensor! Oh I see you brought a little extra with you. I'll bet you're glad we don't charge by the pound. I flipped off the scale, said some expletives under my breath and then went and stretched again. I used the elliptical instead of the treadmill because running has hurt me badly over the last couple weeks. My run down Memorial Drive in Calgary two days ago almost crippled me to the point of needing a wheelchair. That's not an exaggeration. It's true.

I did a few of my old exercises and then debated what I should do next. Swim? Yeah swimming. Swimming doesn't hurt anyone ever. That's true with the exception of drowning. Why is it that when I swim laps I always feel like I'm drowning? One of my friends wondered out loud, "well do you know how to swim?" Smart ass. She's lucky she said it in a text message, but she does have a point.

After 10 laps (at least I think it's ten, 500m) I was ready to throw up in the pool. I was dizzy and felt like dying. I left the gym.

Upon arriving home, Moose, my housemate's cat, looked at me mockingly as if I were a failure at swimming, exercise and life. "Moose, don't look at me like that. You're a cat, what the hell do you know about swimming?"

I have lost a grand total of eight inches off of my waistline. My neck is one and a half inches smaller; in fact, I have a neck! I'm 189 pounds now, compared to my once 244 pounds. Mybiceps are bigger and my gut is smaller and I feel healthier and overall my whole body has changed drastically in the last six months. Despite the fact that I know that all these things have changed, I am having a tough time seeing it. My friends have called me the chronic fat chick.

You see, when I look in the mirror, I don't really see any difference between November 2007 me and Juneish 2008 me. I look the exact same. Even though every single person I know has made a comment about the way I look, I simply cannot see the change. I can reason the change. I understand that wearing a 32" pair of jeans is smaller than the size 38's or 40's I was wearing. I understand that a size medium t-shirt, is smaller than and extra large. I get that. So yes, I know that I am smaller, but I can't see it. I still point at my love-handles, my gut, my man-boobs, and my butt and say, "geeze, I wish I could change that."

Laura keeps calling me "so little." I don't see it.

Crashpad Katie says that I have Body Dysmorphic Disorder: the fat chick syndrome. Katie would know, because she used to be a fat chick. Apparently, boys can suffer from poor body image too. I certainly don't believe that I suffer from BDD to the extent of cutting off my remaining love handles with a butter knife, but I can sympathize with the people who suffer from Fat Chickness. It's hard. When your self image has been so terrible for so long, it's hard to believe anything different, even if the truth is readily apparent: like loosing fifty-five pounds on a scale or eight inches off your waist. The brain is a funny thing.

Here it is. It has now been two-and-a-half months since I have updated. That's a big gap for a guy who was posting upwards of ten blogs per month. I'm sure there are a lot of questions. Then again, chances are that many people have stopped visiting because no one expects there to be anything new. In that case, there are likely no questions as to my whereabouts. My bad.

But in the off chance that anyone still checks Moose Jockey, I have been in Phoenix. I have been working a lot. Flying to and fro. Over the last two months a handful of things have happened. I went back to Canada for a brief trip to see my mom and dad and a few friends. I was there a total of three days. I rented a car and checked out my home town. I hadn't been there in a little over four years, so much had changed there. I saw people I hadn't seen since I had graduated almost a decade ago. It was surreal. My worst suspicions were confirmed when I drove into Sylvan Lake. It was not the town that I had remembered. It had doubled in size since I left, and I didn't know everybody who walked down the street. Buildings that once existed were replaced with new, cooler, and less charming buildings than those of my childhood. Sigh. My home town is no longer my home town.

Another thing that has happened since I last made an entry is that I have lost a lot of weight. Since December, when I first stepped on the scale and decided to make a conscious effort to do something about my portly exterior, I have lost fifty, count 'em, FIVE ZERO pounds. I still have about fifteen more pounds that I'd like to lose, but so far I'll count the fifty mark as a victory. I stopped buying food at work. I bring protein bars and dried fruit and tuna in a cooler, and that is all that I eat. I also run a lot. Up until the middle of March I had been running a lot more, but late in the month, I came up lame with an iliotibial band strain (ITBS), and I have been struggling ever since. I was running about 10K three times a week, but now, I'm lucky if I can make it 2.5 miles without crying from the pain. Why not take up swimming? Because I LOVE running. I love it. My doc offered a localized steroid injection; I declined, but I was tempted. Anyway, the injury has forced me into strength training in order to continue to burn calories. To me this was not favorable because I have a muscular build, and I don't want to bulk up. I'm bulky already. But it has brought some balance to my routine.

Anyway, the ITBS caused me to be quite lazy. Also when I went home to Canada I had a few cigars with some friends. Which immediately launched me into buying cigarettes when I returned to Arizona. After smoking several packs over the period of several weeks I realized that I was being stupid. So I went from a nicotine-free person, back to a 4mg nicotine gum chewer again. It's a setback. Battered but not beaten. I expect to be gum-free buy the end of the summer. The lesson? If you've nixed something. Don't even walk near it again.

Unfortunately, work has kept me from getting home more than it ever did when I was out in Washington DC. Now it seems that I only get home once or twice a month, and only ever for one or two days. This is taking its toll on me, and I must say that I have lost a lot of my inspiration because of it. I think this might explain why Moose Jockey has been suffering so badly. Poor website. I guess, the thing is I haven't been learning much. Putting my new realizations in writing makes me happy.

So, here I am. I want to say thank you to all of you who over the last few months who have asked me to take some laxative. Apparently, the title to my last entry was very appropriate.

Just a few days ago, I was sitting in the most charming little restaurant in Des Moines. It's called Skip's and it's located on Fleur Drive by the airport. They have a delicious Balsamic Vinegar Chicken Salad. It really was incredible. I had that salad and a cup of their vegetable soup. I simply cannot wait to go back to Des Moines just to eat there again.

Believe it or not, this is not a restaurant review about Skip's on Fleur Drive in Des Moines by the airport (eat there). This is actually about the thought that I had when i had sat down in the restaurant.

If you've been paying attention, you'd know that I have been working hard to loose a bunch of weight. In fact, since December 1st I have lost twenty-five pounds. How? Well it's a combination of vigorous exercise and a rabbit food diet. Basically, I am restricted to fewer than two-thousand calories a day, while being mindful of the carbohydrates that I consume (I don't eat bread...ever). I rarely drink juice, and I try my best to not eat after seven o'clock. That's not a hard rule though. I eat a lot of protein bars too. I friggen hate those. Generally speaking, I eat fruit, vegetables, chicken, salad, beef jerky, and yogurt. That's my life.

The other aspect is the exercise. I do a lot of that too. I have been running a lot. I try to run three miles every other day. I have been able to keep my time down to 28 minutes at the lower altitudes, and just a little better than 30 minutes when I'm in Colorado. After running, I try to lift weights if they are available. If not, I carry tension bands with me in my suitcase, and use those to work on my arms, back and shoulders. After weights, I try to do resistance exercises I still really suck at those. You know the type though, they are thePilate's/yoga type exercises that make use of wall sits and exercise balls. There really aren't reps in these kinds of exercises so much as time to hold a position. Those are hard.

Anyway, this losing weight thing is not for the faint of heart. It's some really hard crap. Besides that, it's hard for a guy to find accountability; though, right now, I have been so fed up with the weight that I don't need much encouragement from others. There have been a few blogs that make me feel guilty from time to time, and have pushed me out of my hotel room down to beat the streets of Memphis, Birmingham, Wichita or wherever I may be that day. This one, and this one, are on a pedometer challenge. Heidi has recently posted a pseudo book report on the book Skinny Bitch. She received more feedback on that one post than I think I have on my whole blog altogether. Everyone is trying to shed some pounds. In fact, Heidi saw an opportunity with all these women who are trying to lose weight that she started a new project called "Healthy Chicks R Us." It's a support group focused on encouraging women to keep up with diet and exercise. Membership in her skinny bitch group is free, but you may not like the right of passage. Members must post a "before" photo of themselves in their skivvies. No guys, we're not invited. I already checked.

Regardless, we're all trying to loose weight. I have twenty-five more pounds to go. My goal is to have them gone by July 1 of this year. I am pretty confident that I can do it. Then comes the trick of keeping it off. I'm looking at buying a bike, but it's hard to justify buying a $500 piece of equipment that I won't ever be home to use.

So back to Skip's on Fleur Drive in Des Moines near the airport (eat there). They had a bottle of Heinz Ketchup sitting on the table. I love ketchup. That was when it occured to me, 'I haven't eaten ketchup in months!' Seriously, I don't eat anything anymore that requires ketchup. It made me want to order a plate of French fries, but I didn't the salad was really good. I didn't realize that losing weight meant giving up my favourite condiments too. Oh well, at least there is still Salsa. Just eat it with a spoon.

Yesterday I went running. Actually, that's not exactly a fair description. I ran, jogged, hacked, wheezed, walked, spit, coughed and choked my way through about five miles; it took me fifty-five minutes. Today, though my lungs have recovered, my butt, calves, chest and shoulders have not. Son of a gun that was hard work.

To be honest though, this isn't my first attempt at running. I have actually been doing a lot of this type of cardiovascular work since before Christmas. I did a lot in Washington, and in the hotels where I overnighted. I have been doing a lot in Phoenix too. But yesterday, here in Colorado, things were a whole lot different. Montrose averages a good five to six thousand feet above most of the places where I have been working out. Naturally, it damn near killed me. For those of you who didn't do so hot in school, the air is thinner up here; that makes it harder.

Anyway, I was talking to Jason last night and was telling him about my warrior's run, and I asked him if this crap ever got any easier. 'Surely it does,' I thought, 'after all, who would do it if it didn't? Maybe Annie, I don't know.' Jason wasn't very reassuring. So, that's it, I guess I'm bound to a life of shin-splints, and side cramps. So, if you see this chubby man barreling down a snow-packed pathway, get the hell out of my way; cause I don't like it anymore than you, and I'll knock you out. I don't even care if you're sporting a walker or a stroller.