OK, the rub...

So we head up to CT for this wedding. A great wedding it was. I loved every second of it and the people who were there. The wife and I brought the tribe and stayed at some hotel near New London with the rest of the guests and her family.

The groom and the cousins husband decided that me and the brother in law from Denver should head over to the Grooms house after the rehearsal dinner for some Manly partying. The pre wedding male party. Not a real bachelor party. Just some manly hanging out and a toast for the last breath of freedom.

The cousins husband headed over directly from the rehearsal with them so the brother in law and myself, heading back to the hotel to help put the kids to bed, went down to the pool area to just relax. We almost considered not going at all, but the cousin intimated that her husband was counting on us for a ride home. So we have to go. We decided that an hour tops would satisfy the groom and we could all get back at a decent hour and be good husbands and well rested for the wedding.

Only thing was... A very large bottle of Jack Daniels stood in the way. 15 shots, about a case of beer, and taxi cab ride later and we arrived at the hotel around... I don't remember. I remember someone saying it was 5am. I also remember someone saying that we went to Foxwoods, which was obviously a rumor because I had not lost any money. Not to mention zero memory of it.

Anywho, I'm sitting at the pool the next morning reading, recuperating, and guarding the wee ones take a swim. The gym is right next to it and I wandered in to see a scale. I jump on the scale. This is were I melt down.

Let's put all of this into perspective. I turned 40 in January. I am still pretty active. I play basketball (coached basketball), walk 18 holes of golf probably 2x's a week during the season, I ride a bike with the kids. I play with the kids. The last time I weighed myself I was around the 250ish mark. Which is not good, but I figured I was most likely at maximum density. Couldn't possibly put on another pound. Just not that guy.

The last two weeks my eyes have been shutting down. I can't read so good. So my neighbor gave me a set of his old glasses and they were almost spot on. So I was reading with them.

So here I am... Blind as a bat, and stepping on a scale for the first time in months. I can't read the damn thing cause I left the glasses next to the book I was reading. I squinted a little. somewhere between 270 and 280. WTF IS THAT??? The scale bounced because I jumped off it pretty quickly.

This is not me. No way, no fucking how. This is retarded. I just saw a picture from the wedding. It wasn't of me but I was in the background sitting down. I had to look at it twice to be sure it was me. I didn't recognize myself. I am pissed to say the least.

I shared this with Al who responded, "OOF". I shared it with the retard who said it was "HARD" while calling me a retard. I shared it with JJ who is my compatriot from TX and fellow right winger who only consoled me and said we would try together. And I shared it with PL who offered a prop bet.

I have to lose 50 lbs. by December. That is it. Anyone else want in, you're more than welcome. Hitting 40 was easy. Never gave it another thought. I don't feel 40 and I certainly don't feel 270 lbs. But I certainly can't stand for it.

I'm not going to sit here and chronicle my work out sessions, nor will I tell you what I plan on doing. I'm just going to do something. Not sure exactly what yet, but I will figure it out within the next 12 hours.

270 fucking pounds. WTF???