It takes a bigger man than me...

I have a lightning fast metabolism. For those of you who have seen me in my biking shorts and jersey lately, quit laughing, I really do. Yeah, I may have only recently made the transition from “Severely Obese” to “Moderately Obese” but I have a really fast metabolism. It does have its disadvantages though, like when your double dose of Novocain wears off before your dentist is one quarter of the way done drilling out your tooth for a crown. You don’t even want to hear what happened with my vasectomy.

Of course there are perks. I can drink a lot, and sober up rather quickly, sometimes too quickly, and I rarely if ever have a hangover. And then there is the fact that I should weigh about 450 lbs. I was talking with my buddy the other day and somehow we got on the topic of diets, namely how much we’ve both been eating better lately. This eventually led to how I used to eat. Steve was so amazed he felt the need to share this with his coworkers, which led to a lot of “Ooooooohs”and “Ahhhhhhhhs” at his office and the demand that I post it here in my blog.

The foundation of any day is a good breakfast. Mine was a two stage affair. First of all, I was never awake for more than 3 minutes before I had my first cigarette and Coke. I hate coffee, but I needed to get my caffeine somewhere. On my drive in to the office I would smoke between 4 and 5 cigarettes and finish that 20 oz bottle of Coke I opened. I would always stop at the gas station just before work to stock up on cigarettes and buy breakfast proper:

1 King sized Snickers or Payday Bar
1 Red Bull
1 Starcrunch Patty
2 Mt Dew Code Reds

This would hold me off till about mid morning and then I would hit the vending machine for a Coke and some Skittles or something.

Lunch consisted of either a foot long deli sub sandwhich and a large Cherry Coke or a huge slice of pizza and an order of Mozerella sticks. More often than not to I would go get a large fruit smoothie shake deal at the Dunkin Donuts located conveniently between the deli and the pizza joint. Then maybe another Coke or two to round out the work day, and at least one on the drive home.

Dinner was usually fast food, Chicago style. We have this place down the street from us that caters to the university, so they deliver till like 3 am every night. I would get a gyro or Italian beef, fries, coke, split an order of cheese sticks with my wife, and a chocolate shake.

All that, on top a pack and half to two packs of cigarettes, was a typical day for me. At cookouts or the weekends it wasn’t unusual for me to eat 2 cheese burgers and at least one brat or 2 or 3 hot dogs in a sitting, this on top of grazing on chips and whatever else was offered. People twice my size would stare in amazement at the amount of food I could put down. My friends used to joke that if I ever ate a vegetable, my body would go into shock and reject it like a bad kidney.

I say I’m lucky I don’t weigh 400 lbs, and that it’s only my liver that’s fat, you would think it would have spread to my lungs or colon or something. Steve thinks I’m lucky I’m not dead. We’re both right. At the very least I was knocking on diabetes's door.