The Football Fan’s Diet

By Matt DeReno
On The FFD

So it Saturday morning and as usual the entire family is sound asleep at this hour, being 5:22 in the AM (if you must know); except for me no doubt, here, plugging away at the keyboard adding the final touches on Season II of the FFD.

Now that the shock of losing in the second round of the playoffs is over, I am feeling really good about the work I have done in the past six months. I still can’t believe it has been six months. In many ways, I can begin to enjoy the hard work now.

Case in point: we picked up my wife’s niece, who is in for the summer from Poland. She had not seen me since last summer. When she left in August of last year, man, I was a fat pig. Okay, I shouldn’t be so glib about being overweight back then. It is a real health problem for millions and I am one of those millions.

I don’t mean to be cavalier about weight loss now but it is funny that having lost a good deal of weight, I am sensitive now to talking about fat people. When I was a lovable fat body, and I am admitting it, I joked about it all the time. Was this a sort of defense mechanism? Are there really any truly happy fat people? Are all fat people upset or stressed out about something? Do they not have things in order personally? What is the big misfire with obesity?

I don’t think fat people are by nature depressed any more so than skinny bastards. Everyone, to some degree, has their own way of dealing with stress and all the other monkey wrenches life throws at you. Some people, fat asses and skinny bastards alike, use food as a way to cope. Everybody copes somehow. The trick is to have a healthy way to cope such as walking or running or doing something that doesn’t add calories.

And beyond that, damn it – some people, and I will forever remain one of them, simply love food! How it tastes, the whole dining experience; cooking and other culinary arts and watching Rachel Ray marinate her breasts (of chicken, you pig).

Now that being said, it may be depressing to realize that you are overweight. I was not terribly excited about buying pants in the same section where they sell tarps, circus tents and accessories for your pet elephant. However, the depressing thing was not for being fat per se, rather it was because of “having let myself” become fat in the first place. That represents a failure of some sort. The fact that the failure resulted in me being the sort of thing that would terrorize the crew of the Pequod was merely incidental to the act of failure.

All in all, all fat things being skinny for a second, I am no more “happy” now than I was really back in December. Well, maybe I am a little more happier. However, I am happy because I set out “do something” and now it seems that I “accomplished something,” which I set out to do. That accomplishment could have been rooted in the achievement of anything I set out as being a difficult goal to achieve – such as making a million dollars. If I did that, I would be happy.

Anytime one achieves one should experience more happiness right? So, again, it is not being skinny that makes one happy it is having become skinny that delivers a new sense of achievement and confidence to go with it. At least that is my opinion.

I will add that I never made excuses about being a fat ass. I knew I was a porker at that weight, when I started. But, now, with the niece having returned, and with her not having seen any photos of my bulbous jelly belly since New Years Even, she was quite amazed at how skinny I had become.

Me, I still think I am the same guy now that was rolled up inside that big ass of mine back in December. I never realized how fat my ass was. Hey, that sounds like a book doesn’t it? Picture this: instead of “How green was my valley” how about “How fat was my ass”? Okay, enough fat jokes.

The joke is I am still fat on some chart or another and I don’t have anything solved or figured out. That being said, I have lost a good deal of weight and by recording all these inane thoughts it is my idea to provide you with a road map of some sort so that you might do the same.

Here is another interesting observation (at least I think it is interesting): I probably don’t have a good sense of how different I look right now compared to how I looked back in December of last year. I don’t want bring out the old saw about “beauty is only skin deep” and all that fluff, but it could be that one’s perception of oneself is an internal matter. Moreover, it could be that how you feel about yourself is largely independent of your weight. I mean, I don’t really feel much different now than I did when I was trucking around all the extra luggage in my trunk. But, surely people notice now that I am, eh—less cheeky about things.

So that is a lot of pontification and pondering about fat butts. It should warrant a turn back to more practical minded matters of the fat gut; matters more associated with serious endeavors to lose weight. Okay, can I stop writing like an asshole? Who am I kidding. I am a beer loving happy fat slob trying to loose weight any way I can. This is one way.

I was worried last week about where to go from here. You my recall from my posting on June 17th, I was faced with a big question: What now?

It was not reassuring when the week after I hit my low mark, the scale seemed to scream back at me for a few days of giving in to an unbridled, heedless and a most unforgiving appetite. But now, as I type this, another week has nearly passed since my losing that second round loss, which did come down to a wheat beer nail-biter I might add. Guess what?

I am darn near about at that low weight, give or take a pound or two, then I was in the first round. So, that is cause for great hope that maybe, just maybe, just freaking maybe, I learned something about myself after six months of doing a dumb stupid asinine diet, which I invented for my ego (okay, I needed to say that – sort of like telling a loved one to go to hell, because they are right about your shortcomings in ways that nobody else seems to be, which pisses you off nonetheless).

And now, having weighed in with my personal skinny on fat, I leave you with one final thought on this rain soaked Saturday morning in Pittsburgh: How fat was my ass? Fat.

By Matt DeReno
On The FFD

I still don’t really know what to say. I lost last week. It was close. It came down to a field goal. Actually, it came down to one freaking Belgium wheat beer, which I drained over at a friend’s house. You see, that Friday, I thought I could keep it all in check and figure out to a tee how much grub and beer I could swallow down the old pie hole and still stay within the limits. I did a great job of adding it all up and staying under my Daily Game Day Objective by the caloric value of a shred of lettuce. Then, it was then, I remembered that damn Belgium Wheat Beer!

That evening I had one and there are about 150, oh, who gives a flying crap about the actual number of calories now. Let us just say there was enough to put me over and then once it was over, the week was over and with the week over, I suppose the season is over. That is really, really tough to say and write and even think about.

I will have to admit, there is both denial and emotion coursing through my beer-emptied veins. I mean, I have been doing this damn Football Fan’s Diet for six months. How can it be over? I am supposed to win the Super Bowl. I am supposed to be the next damn Lance Armstrong or Michael Phelps at the end of the season. But, the season is over and I am not. I am not even going to play in the freaking crowing event of the diet I invented.

Now, granted I lost a noticeably large amount of weight. In fact, from my all time high point of the season (day after New Year’s eve) I weighed 272 lbs. At my lowest point last week, the week I won, the wild card – I was down X – yes, I made it down to X (to be revealed later). But, is the season really over? This was something I never, really, ever planned for and I have to admit, I am shell shocked. I don’t really know what to do.

Since I lost, I felt really weird. Like, what now? I mean, is it the off season. According to my original plan, I was going to be an Olympian and roll gloriously into July 4th the envy of all fat Americans from the New York donuts to the California Cobb Salad or whatever they eat out that way. But, the fact is I lost. Worse, I distinctly recall I sort of wanted to lose. I mean that is bad, but I had a feeling of exhaustion.

Maybe I lost because I made the attainment of the Daily Game Day Objective just a little too damn hard to carry out for another week. I mean, I was basically starving myself and yes, I hit a nice low, but wow, the weight was merely temporary if I am too believe the old scale this week. But, I am not going to split pounds on this because, well, isn’t that life my friends.

That’s life my friends. Get shot down in April and ride high in May, as the Chairman of the Board would say.
Still, what now? I mean I have thought about this before and never came up with a really good solution. What should I do? Just start all over again?

I guess at some point that answer is obvious – yes. But, I don’t want to hear it right now. I don’t want this season to be over. I wrestled with some sort of awkward ruling where maybe I was entitled to a first round bye and so somehow a loss in the second round of the playoffs wouldn’t count. Oh, that was bullshit. I’ll drop some Stalone-esque insight here: If you lose, you lose.

Still, it seems to call the FFD II totally quits is stupid since the season technically still goes on for my Inner Fat Slob. So what should I do? I don’t know. It’s been three days now and I am still shocked it is over.

I have to figure something out. After all, it would be not right to start a new season when my Inner Fat Slob still has the Super Bowl to play. I could just be a dummy opponent? That sounded good but I don’t like that either. I guess here is where true creativity will raise to the occasion and must figure out something palatable to my healthy side and my Inner Fat Slob.

I think then I am going back to a weight loss level, a DGO, much more moderate than what I set out for in the playoffs and will call it practice for, ah—I dunno—the Pro Bowl? Hey, maybe that is the real meal ticket. I mean, perhaps I earned a trip to the Pro bowl and therefore should still keep at it? That would extend my season even beyond the Super Bowl. And that is what I am really trying to do. Extend my season. But not just extend it for the reasons of incremental weight loss. I want to extend it somehow into the rest of my life.

I am 37 and 40 is around the corner. How many more times can I seriously drop over X lbs? I need and must maintain what I worked so hard to accomplish at this point. So, if that dictates another season, well so be it. I guess I will have to keep doing FFDs until a winning system is ingrained in my everyday way of eating and enjoyment.
Another big question at this point is to ask what I have learned from doing all of this since way back in January? That is a tough question and I don’t think it will be fully explored now. I may have to think about it a bit—over beer no doubt.

Yes, the season is over but I am not officially dropping the curtain on the season until the Lombardi Trophy is officially given to my Inner Fat Slob in a few weeks; after all, that is truly when an NFL Season is over, after the hand off of a Lombardi Trophy to a member of the Rooney family (okay, I had to get some Steelers in there).

So, the official curtain will come on July 3rd as planned. Then will the season be truly over. For now, even though I can’t win anything, I will humor my Inner Fat Slob’s secondary team or something, I don’t know; whatever on that regard.

So it is resolved then: even though I am knocked out of contention
for the Super Bowl, the season itself still continues until the Super Bowl week comes and goes. Only then, will I say the books, or rather this sad blog, is closed on Season II of the FFD. Only then will get the proverbial “before” and “after” picture up on this site. Only then, will I reveal how much I have lost officially for the season.

Right now let the record show that I, Matt “The Freak” DeReno, went 12-4, won a wild card game, and dropped X amount of pounds on a diet that I invented. X will be revealed at the official end of the season.
In the meantime, I will post analysis and observations about what I have learned from doing this diet now for 6 months. Perhaps I’ll add a couple more beer poems for good measure….

It is with those thoughts, I must turn my mind to the upcoming draft. Not the one in which players are recruited mind you, rather the draft sitting in front of me (rim shot please). Stay tuned my friend. I can’t win the Super Bowl, but the season isn’t officially over yet!

By Matt DeReno
On The FFD

What has transpired for most of the year has held true. If I slip one day, as in innocuous as it may seem, they trigger a series of slips. It is very difficult to have a slip, then get right back on track. And that is the case this week. I slipped at the tail end of last week, and save for one day where I took it to my Inner Fat Slob on Tuesday, I got it handed to me.

As of right now, I just got back from the gym and burned some major calories. It is difficult to stay under the playoff DGO but I have a feeling that despite how much I don’t like it, I will learn something from this when it is said and done. Now, do I really want to win this damn thing? I am wondering that these past few days. But enough wondering. I got the ball back. I am down a bit this week, but if after the gym, I am poised for the comeback. Man, playoff comebacks are not easy. You don’t need to be John Elway to know that, but it is Friday. I will try to have a couple beers and stay within my low DGO. We’ll see if I can give right back to my Inner Fat Slob. There is still a few weeks left. I would hate to get bounced from the playoffs now.

By Matt DeReno
On The FFD

PITTSBURGH – I stumbled a bit on Saturday and continued that stumble all the way through Monday like the true bumbler and stumbler that I am. Each of the three days was marked by some sort of social occasion. On each of the days, I had chips. We went over to a friend’s house Saturday evening, which was very enjoyable. Sunday was a picnic slash birthday party, what out in New Kensington, Pa.

In fact, there was some really delicious food to be had on Monday as well and that was at a work related affair. Come to think of it – it was all free. And, I almost didn’t care at all about any of it calorie wise and how it doomed my DGO for that day.

I never, ever thought for a moment that one of the biggest obstacles at the end would be not so much temptation rather boredom, or apathy, or complacency, even a mixture of all. Man, there are a lot of obstacles to getting healthy and in the end, the aforementioned hurdles come as a bit of an unsuspected surprise. Or, maybe they shouldn’t. After all, maybe complacency comes in because you realize that as you get healthy, it is not like your life suddenly or magically transforms in all areas. You still have stuff to get mad out. You still will do dumb things. If you were a fat idiot, you will simply be a skinny idiot. Enjoy.

So, that, apathy and its cousins, are another weapon my Inner Fat Slob has thrown at me toward the waning moments of the season – trying to get me to not care anymore! Perhaps my Inner Fat Slob senses the end is near. I sense it. And, this past weekend, I really, really wanted this FFD thing to be over so I can go on to living and enjoying the off-season. However, I am not out of the woods yet.
This is the playoffs part of the FFD and no reminder is starker than simply observing how fast things can swing the other way. Case in point: all my double trouble effort during the Wild Card Week was sort of gobbled up in the Saturday through Monday span, and it was sort of like, “Oh, who cares…I won the week. That is what counts….”

Not caring is a far different graver reason for slipping in the name of one’s unhealthy yearnings. To let one’s Inner Fat Slob march down field and run it right through your gut – literally, without putting up a fight is a shame. This may even be more unforgivable than waking up in the morning with a hangover and an empty bucket of KFC over your head!

After all, everybody can understand that when the Detroit Lions or Cincinnati Bengals march out onto the field for their inevitable drubbing that forgiveness and understanding lies with how much effort is put forth by these motley collections of animal-themed NFL football doormats. And the worst “doormat” is the one that says “Welcome” and lets you walk right over it.

Nobody likes a team that rolls over, nobody; you can stink, but you must try. If you are going to be a doormat, at least have “Get the F out” written on you in big black bold letters my friend. People will give you more respect.

So now I must guard against apathy in the waning weeks of the FFD. Oh, jeez. Is there anything else? For crying out loud, can’t I just win this Super Bowl pa-lease!

I should note that for all my prodigious weight loss up until Saturday, the scale was like a huge freaking bungee cord and no sooner than had I the second kielbasa sandwich on Sunday, I was right back where I started. Then on Monday, we had this big Summer Institute thing at Carnegie Mellon and on this day in particular was the group photo and free beer; still hard to pass up free beer. Ah, free beer. So now I will have an uphill struggle all week to even preserve the weight loss from last. And, life continues in the FFD Season II postseason.

By Matt De Reno
On The FFD

PITTSBURGH – Hit down on a new level this Wednesday on The Wild Card Round of the FFD and my healthy side is going hog wild. It is really, really great news to see a new less-flab mark reached after jumping on that scale. Whereas I used to crush those scales, now I top them off a like a feather wafted from the sky.
Yes, a gross exaggeration but I am feeling lighter. Lighter. Yes. Give me a lighter because I need to set June on fire.

There is time to do something great here this month in June. It won’t be easy. In fact, it would seem improbable and insane that with all that is booked on our social calendar in this June for a Loon, that I will not only stick to what I have done to date, but even take it up a level. However, sometimes I thrive on a sticking it to the fat man. It won’t be easy.

Monday did not start off easy as I had to sit and watch the family enjoy General Tso’s, probably the one Asian cuisine weakness of mine, as I sat there and “ate” a freaking Diet Coke. I was ready to put duck sauce on the freaking Coke can and eat the delicious mouthwatering aluminum. I made it through my delusions of caloric grandeur.

Now, I guess, to regulate my caloric intake, I am falling back on the ubiquitous “five dollar footlong” for lunch slash dinner, several of which I have worked down my pie hole like feeding tree branches into a wood chipper.

Disregarding my fear of becoming the next “Jared” I like that Subway has all that weird green fresh stuff, which you can pile high on a sandwich bun. Put some spicy mustard on it and viola, you got yourself a submarine sandwich that is easy on the beltline and heavy on stuff rabbits love to nibble on.

For some odd reason, I wanted to shoot some basketball this week. Not sure why, really, other than when we were walking into the Chinese place in West View, across the street, a bunch of high school types were knocking them down, driving to the buckets, hitting some outside jumpers. It’s been a while since I ran the court. You know I did have a wicked three at one time. Hey, what the heck: this is a football fan’s diet.

So, we are in the middle of the Wild Card. Two days are done. A new level has been reached. June will be grueling but the promise of a much, long needed respite in July looms as the ultimate trophy. Check back on the FFD as the all out assault on my Inner Fat Slob continues and prepare to put salt and pepper on Coke cans.

By Matt DeReno
On The FFD

PITTSBURGH – It is here. The playoffs have begun. I have my game face on baby. I am out of the gates this morning and ready for healthy. That is it. It is June and playoff FFD is a whole new level of healthy stupidity. In fact, that is what I liked to think I have been pursuing all along—healthy stupidity. So, essentially, I have one month to finish this baby up.

In doing so, I must make the playoffs difficult. For the Wild Card Round, if I go over my DGO, there will be no forgiveness. I will give up a TD. If I exercise I will get a FG. If I don’t, I will give up an FG. If I have a beer or any alcoholic beverage – each one will be an FG (Maybe a TD was too much punishment for the allure of the hops and barley). I think that is pretty restrictive—especially the calorie part about staying under my DGO. I will have to cut back a lot of breakfast calories. I will also have to cut back dinner too.

Now the past weekend, I got some serous exercise in and even yesterday I was almost ready to say the round of golf at the Highland Country Club in the North Hills was something to be a positive health experience. On Saturday, I walked 3 ½ hours at the Pittsburgh Zoo. Man, that took a lot of energy. Then, in the evening we had the Polish dance at Pulaski’s, a Polish club in the McKee’s Rocks section of Pittsburgh. There I danced horribly for about at least an hour. In the morning I am sure I shed some calories getting my daughter ready for soccer. What healthy endeavors await the first week of the wild card round?

So the extraganza begins. Hang on to your hats. Grab your socks and grab your… Let’s go. Playoff FFD is here!