Nervous times...

Right, it's the Thursday before weigh-day Friday and I'm not feeling overly positive about my performance. I've been unable to exercise due to my injury and had a terrible weekend food and drink wise.

Thankfully the beautiful Janet has stopped baking, so I have not been bombarded with exciting cookies, biscuits and cakes this week.

The issue I have is that this blog is now depressing me. Not only am I losing weight at a slower rate than my elder brothers, but Dr Rob seems to live a significantly more interesting life than me. So too does one of the Dudes - I can recall posts relating to New York, Paris, Barcelona, Norway, Holland, London....if only I had tried harder at school. I have the joy of travelling from a slightly rough area of Leeds to a really rough area of Bradford on a daily basis. It's got me thinking that being a tad portly may not be the worst thing in my life.

Suicidal rage has built up over the last couple of weeks, but then it hit me: Life could be worse, I could be Doogie Tuesday.....

Now, if only uneducated ranting were a weight loss technique!

News in from Big Doogie.  Strangely, he can spend ages poncing about with graphs (for some reason he doesn't like mine) but remains unwilling to blog.  Of course, he's the shy and retiring type; or possibly he's nurturing hopes of a political career. 

Talking of politics, Ed may have stiffed Dave good and proper, but we'll have none of that over here, the eldest sibling is playing to win.  15k run yesterday, 10k row this evening.  I'd be quids in, if only I hadn't got totally smashed in between.

Anyway, here's Dugald's graph.  And his 'analysis': "And it is all change at the top Gavin and I are slipping back by two weeks and one week respectively on projected trends, Rob improves by a couple of days.  Time to start running again me thinks." 

By 'running', he is, of course, referring to laxative overdosing; he can't actually move any faster than a steady wobble.

Weight

91.5kg - goodbye.

Disaster!

Late night working yesterday, so a bit bleary eyed this morning, staggered down at 7 to get Robin a bottle, then stepped lightly on to the scales and watched in horror as the reading shot up past last week's figure to 96kg!  I wondered briefly if I were a Belgian monk living a nightmare in which he were a Stirlingshire drunk dreaming about miraculous weight-loss.  I listened for the sound of one belly roll slapping, but although chaos theory does allow that one wobble of Dugald's mighty gut can cause entire families of butterflies to succumb to the aftershocks in Midlothian, in the end I had to reject any scenario involving the big lad as there was no detectable unpleasant odour.  It was then that I decided to put Robin down and try again.  A cool 86kg: much more like it.

Taking into account the piss-up last weekend, and a slight overindulgence in Bergen on Monday - you just can't refuse free alcohol in Norway, though I kind of made up for that by eating only 6 oysters and 4 scallops for dinner - that's not too bad.  I was especially good in Amsterdam, and a couple of my livelier colleagues all but  fell off their barstools when they saw that I really was going to order a sparkling water.  Then I think a brisk run last night took the greasy icing off my abdominal cake.  Next couple of weeks could be good: no meetings planned outside Brussels, finally getting over the cold/throat virus, feeling fit and ready to train moderately hard - nothing shifts the pounds like a series of hour sessions on the concept D.  Big question mark is weekend alcohol - No1 wife has invited various friends over the coming weekends.  But Aikido season starts tonight and that helps keep Fridays relatively dry. 

All in all, think I should be able to keep up with the brothers.  Bit concerned, however, about the Dude with vestigial Moobs, as I have it on good authority that he was already down to 82kg last week, and is aiming for 76 or lower!  I had been hoping to play squash with the Dude in question, not use him as a racket.  Still, the Dudes do have 6 weeks head start on the Brothers, so if we compare like-with-like on the timescale, I think we may be slightly ahead... and, stop press, I've just heard that the Dude got back from New York complaining about large portions: good, good.  I will, of course, spare you any gags about large portions.

Anyway, lots to do.... so come on Doogie and Gayvee, let's have them hulks on the scales and the masses in mails, I'll get the chart updated as soon as.

Confidence is....

...pre-ordering a tour top for February's rugby tour in size medium. The last time I was in a medium she had just giving me a psychic reading!






Quick update for our plethora of avid followers - diet going well, training non-existent - but hoping to start some light jogging on Saturday. Not expecting anything positive from tommorow's weigh in, but confident Dr Rob and Doogie Tuesday have reached the point where they have to work for every pound...

Time told...

Good street party.  Awful hangover.  Still, I ran 10km first, didn't eat much, kept off the desserts, and even slotted in some late night exercise!  No, not that kind: No1 wife and I have been married 12 years, after all. No, this was on the bouncy castle, with 3 other local dads, frightening off the teenagers, shouting about going for 'another fucking drink', just as Madame Mayor came round on her tour of meeting the plebs:  bugger, there goes the planning application...

Diet assistance from travel companies continues, with only a single cup of coffee offered by SAS, during the second leg of Brussels-Oslo-Bergen.  Melon and cucumber for breakfast.  Hamstrings in top nick and a gym next to the hotel. Looking good.

Now listening to a longwinded discussion on paragraph 2.3.2 subsection (b) of some document I have not read.  Norway quibbles; Netherlands throws the rattle out of the pram; bit of shocked silence, then good old UK smoothes the feathers via a stunning display of fence-sitting.  Now here come the Germans...  For the purposes of this meeting, my badge says I am part of the Swedish delegation.  How did that happen?  I do not know what the Swedish position is, in fact I only recognise the Swedes because they have a big toblerone with "SWEDEN" on it, right there on the table in front of them.  I'm here only to run a 1 hour side-event tomorrow.   But today I am being paid to sit in silence at the back of the room, so it would be churlish to complain.  Now if only boredom were a weight-loss technique...

Hamstrung...

So last week wasn't so sucessful, but my training regime set up over pizza on Friday night would have guaranteed some impressive weight loss. Rugby Saturday, 10k run Monday, Spinning Tuesday, Football Thursday and Circuits Friday. Add to that a strict 1700 calories a day and I would have been patting myself on my fat-free back with no worries of a belly wobble.

But then came the injury as I trod on the ball on Saturday and felt my hammer go ping! I limped around the pitch for the remaining 60 minutes, but am now struggling to walk at all. Training regime out the window, calories reduced to 1500 and fingers crossed for a minor miracle!

Add to this that the wonderful Janet has started to bake (she never cooks) and I am struggling! It is interesting that her new 'hobby' has come around since Rob suggested the losers wife (partner) gives the winner a BJ as the prize. Is she trying to tell me something.....

Onwards and upwards, I can only hope that my competitors have a bad 'un.

That's blown it...

Having a big mouth can be a problem when trying to diet, and a size 10.5 foot takes a bit of digesting... so I was chatting to No.1 wife last night, sharing the good news about the week's weight loss.  "I don't know how you manage," she said, "I don't seem to be going down at all."

"Yes, I'd noticed that."

When will I ever learn?

Result...

Well that turned out not so bad after all!  Wee Gay Vee is falling back a bit, the fat gimp.  Doogie is coming on strongly of course, and if he keeps the pace up might even appear on the chart next week!  Nice one General - you deserve a great, big curry and as much beer as you can carry.  Bear in mind that chillies are great for suppressing appetite and your shrunken stomach will hold much less beer than previously.  Why don't you try it out and see just how much less?  Sorry to hear you've been ill though - remember that you must take it easy for a bit, eat well to keep your strength up, and don't get back into exercising too soon, or you could do more harm than good.

As for me, the memories of Monday's excesses have faded from view with a very pleasing 87.5 this morning.  Eurostar did help, seems they've given up on the hot food for dinner too, and I turned down all offers of alcohol.  This is known in dieting circles as a "training regime".  Then got home to find No.1 child had eaten half the dinner No.1 wife had left for me.  Normally I'd have throttled the little bastard, then flung off a strongly-worded e-mail to Nicolas Petrovic, CEO of the aforementioned transport company, but as any monk would tell you, with fasting comes serenity, and in my case, recognition of the silver lining to any calorie-reducing cloud.

Now reasonably hopeful for the next few days - street party tomorrow night, but should be able to restrain myself to a reasonable degree, plus a good chance of a long run or two in the forest. Then off to Bergen on Sunday evening.  Anticipating rabbit food on the plane, followed by three days of virtual starvation - first in Norway, where I couldn't afford to eat, and then in the Netherlands, where I wouldn't want to.  So by the time I get home on Wednesday, I should be well-placed for a final effort, and comfortably ahead of the field.

Of course, on the other hand, I might get smashed off my tits.  Time will tell.

A couple of points from Gav's post, by the way.  Firstly, it was actually mother who collected me from the clink - though not surprising you've forgotten as you were 10 years old at the time and safely tucked up in bed with your teddy and/or wank sock.  Bit unfair to be raking that up, anyway - I did point out yesterday that form was temporary, and that particular conviction is well spent!  More interesting is the question of which word or words you didn't understand in my post.  The only obvious candidate is 'priapic' - which frankly doesn't surprise me, poor Jayne.  Were there any others?

Graphically Challenged

Rob - your graph is shit - I prefer this one....http://dudeswithmoobs.blogspot.com/

Good work on the weight loss to both of you! I'll be fighting back this week though!

Weak Week Weight Wise

If the prize was for the most inappropriate metaphors / similes, then Dr. Rob would have won already, but thankfully for me (as a non-academic) it is not. That said, I would prefer his posts to be more inclusive - it removes some of the humour when one has to look up what certain words mean! Surely it doesn't take a PHD, Masters etc etc. to realise that you should dumb it down for the plebs! Things are only funny if people understand!

Doogie Tuesday still brings humour to the blog with his complete lack of input, bringing questions from our unofficial followers as to his where abouts and his current mind set. I just tell them that he continues to question his sexuality and they seem happy with this explanation.

My only interesting story of the week involved being stopped in the street by a young lady asking me to take part in a survey. I was asked which grooming products I currently used and she seemed genuinely shocked when I told her "haribos and High School Musical"!

Anyway - as Dr Rob correctly said, it was my Birthday this week (not so much as a card from either of my competitors though)! So the beer, curry, pizza, cake(s) and birthday special of sausage, beans and chips had me worried as I entered the bathroom this morning.

My mood was lower than a teenagers waistband as I stepped cautiously onto the scales. I had contemplated smashing the toilet up, getting arrested and then having my Dad come pick me up from the station, but no-one would do that under any circumstances.....oh hang on a minute.....

The weight came back as 92kg exactly, so a small loss, but nothing to show off about! Totals so far are:

Weigh in: 94.9
Week 1: 92.4
Week 2: 92.0

Dr Rob - graphs, analysis, trends, logs(?) - we have an army of people following this who are all dependent on your updates! Is there any way you can get a nice graph at the top like the 'Dudes with Moobs' have done?

Just weight a bit, can't you?

A guy goes away for a couple of days, gets back to find umpteen messages from wee Gay Vee bemoaning the lack of charts and updates on the blog!  You could do it, you idle, fat sod!  Or how about showing the technologically-challenged one how to set up a Google account (it’s really not that hard, Doogie, just click on the link in the invitation I sent you, and Bob’s your uncle… well, great uncle; and also your father, grandfather, brother, second cousin, and, should he be so inclined, fourth nephew.  Are you sure you know what you’re doing?) Anyway, I’ll make this a long one, Gé, are you happy now?  Charts tomorrow though, I can’t be arsed doing it once today then again in the morning.

The battery for the bathroom scales is on to charge, which is probably bad news: the food in Barcelona was good, the wine excellent, and the beer refreshing.  The third bottle of post-dinner cava on Monday night was, however, a tactical blunder. To be fair there were three of us still standing, but not for long, and when I woke up at 6am on the sofa in the hotel landing, I remembered two things – nothing from the night before, which was a total blank, but simply (a) form is temporary, class is permanent and (b) I had a presentation to give at 9am, that (in principle anyway) I ought first to write. 

Now pissing about with Powerpoint on an 8” screen is bad enough under the best conditions, but when battling nausea and sweating like a Belgian priest at the altar-boys swimming gala … the only solution, of course, was lashings of chorizo, bacon and scrambled eggs with toast and as much strong coffee as I could pour down my gullet.  Not good.  But I did behave myself at lunch, stayed off the pastries at coffee time, and even eschewed the pleasures of a tapas bar in the evening, staying at the hotel to finish a report, with a light meal of grilled squid, which was absorutery rubbery (doan shou, sir, evlywan wan sum! – as they say in Cantalanese).  I think that’s the first time in 18 years of conferences and meetings that I’ve gone to bed without a drink (or ten).  And bounced down to breakfast - a fruit-only affair for me, thank you very much – bright and early, feeling light.  Proud?  No: smug is a better term. Workshop dieting is clearly a game of two halves.

So you can imagine how I felt when my colleagues turned up with gut-rot from their seafood snacks, sipping water and contemplating the buffet like a novice nun faced with a priapic octogenarian’s syphilitic manhood.  Pounds of part-digested tapas and bile, litres of regurgitated wine, buckets of cold sweat, hours of energetic convulsions at the wheel of the porcelain truck – just think how much weight that could have lost me!  The jammy, jammy bastards.

Back home with little else to report, other than dates for meetings in Edinburgh, Brussels, Ghent and Budapest – but I’ll cross those food and beer laden bridges when I come to them.  Today it’s Eurostar to London, and I’ve been pleasantly surprised to discover that with the name-change from “Leisure Select” to “Standard Premier” has come the dropping of any pretence at providing an edible cooked breakfast – although given the diet challenge I had been looking forward to the ease of politely declining yet another golden opportunity to sample their famous lamb-scouring and polyfilla omelette.  As it was I had to be content with leaving the croissant and butter.

More worried about the way back, with an hour or so to wait in the lounge, and dinner on the train, and accompanying both, a free bar.  Now I know I’m supposed to be off the pop for dieting purposes, but to a canny Scot it does seem a terrible shame not to partake - almost a sin, in fact.

So what’s it to be, waste or waist?  I’ll let you know when I weigh in tomorrow...but not anticipating a good performance from me, so I’m banking on the others slipping up.  Just possible that Gavin’s birthday celebrations may have put a spanner in his works.  And I believe Dugald had curry and beer at the weekend.  So it just might be all to play for – it’s not over while the fat boys drink, as the saying goes.

Weigh Day....

It was with an immense sence of trepidation that I crawled slowly from my bed this morning. My pre-weighing sh!t didn't happen (despite my best efforts), I had forgotten to charge my hair clippers and my 'wee-wee' was dull yellow and syrup like....I had resigned myself to the worst and eventually got up the bottle to step on to the scales.

The digital display shot up past 100, over 150 and onwards above 200....thankfully, through sleep filled eyes I realised that I was being measured in pounds and not kilos. And after a brief spell of undecidedness, the scales finally came to rest at 203.8lbs (converted to 92.4kg)!

Another successful week, meaning I have now lost over 16lbs since my diet began on 14th August. Unfortunately, for the purposes of this competition, my starting weight was a mere 209.2 (94.9kg) - so my official weight loss for the purposes of the OBTAF competition is 5.4lbs or 2.5kg.

Keep up with that you lardy b*stards!

The weight is nearly over...

So, following Monday's initial weigh in, we are now only hours away from the first Friday update. Just how successful have we been in the first few days of dieting?

My week has gone well, until today....free lunch at a meeting, a cookie and an eclair have probably spoilt all the good work on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. I contemplated bulimia earlier today, but couldn't stomach it.

The plan for tomorrow is:

1. Get up
2. Have the biggest dump in living history
3. Have the longest wee-wee in living history
4. Shave my hair (all over), plucking where I can't shave
5. Have a shower to get rid of excess hair
6. Dry myself
7. Allow time for any additional and potentially weighty moisture to evaporate
8. Get on the scales
9. Post weight on blog.....

I just hope that nervousness doesn't add weight....here's hoping for a BIG loss - as I'm off out for a birthday balti tomorrow night!

Perfect weight loss solution for Doogie!

You know how exercise websites, equipment and so on always carry a disclaimer - "please consult your doctor before starting a fitness programme"?   Well, of course that is vitally important , especially for lardy couch potatoes such as young Dugaldy, and in this litigious age, we at OBTAF wish to cover our ample arses in case of any little slip ups such as could arise: persistent joint pain, cardiac arrest, running through dog shit 'cos he can't see his feet; that sort of thing.

Fortunately, I am a doctor, and Dugald is welcome to consult me any time!  In fact he doesn't even have to, I'm going to chip in my tuppenceworth anyway.  Doogieboo, you need to start slowly, and build up to a regular regime.  Start by leaving your seat to change channel - and think how much you'll save on batteries for the remote!  Then, after a few weeks, try this:

'Brisk walks' to prevent cancers

I saw that and thought immediately of you, Dugald!  Partly for the motivating effect that seeing how trim you might look after a year or so of hard dieting could have.  But, more importantly, in my professional opinion that activity is absolutely perfect for you.  Tailored to your abilities, opportunities and interests.  Just remember to replace lost fluids, and

Oh, hang on a minute, that's an 'L'.

Sorry, forget I mentioned it.

Weigh to go...

Now the weights are in and the targets agreed, we have begun our discussions about prizes. The two suggestions so far are:

"Losers baby sit the winners kids (or cats) for a weekend??" - From Doogie Tuesday, and

"Loser's wife (or girlfriend) gives winner a bl*wjob - obviously!" - From Dr. Rob.

Neither of these really appeal to me for varying reasons. Taking Doogie's suggestion - you cannot compare looking after 3 or 4 children to looking after 2 kittens, add to this that it is a boring suggestion from someone under 40 who seems to be approaching old age and you'll agree that we can ignore this idea.

Now, taking Dr. Rob's suggestion - a) Jayne / Laure / Lena will not agree to this, b) They probably do it differently in France / Russia, c) If this is the 'prize' do you think we could talk Dad into taking part????, d) it's just wrong.

With the crapness of Doogie's suggestion and the inappropriateness of Dr. Rob's suggestion, I have a few ideas of my own:

1. Losers have colonic irrigation to assist with their final goal; and or,
2. Losers have full body wax to assist with their final goal.

If any of our followers (only one so far) have some more ideas, please let us know....

He lives!

Word in from Brother Dugald! "116 target of 104.4 (rounded down to 104) - although that is just the target for this comp.  Aiming to be around 95 which was my pre university weight, and the same weight as when Rob introduced me as his brother with aids."

Well, I'll have more to say on that later.  In the meantime, though, it leaves me with a very thorny problem.  Doogie "Uribe" Fatboy is even bigger than I thought.  And you can see why this causes trouble:

That's right - no sooner was Dugald on the scales, than it became clear he is off the scale.  Thankfully, one benefit - in fact, possibly the only benefit - of a PhD in economics is knowing what to do in such a situation: use logs.  I don't mean for moving Dugald around (though that's not such a bad idea, I must mention it to his wife), but rather for keeping his exponential gut on the same metaphorical page as the rest of the population.

Sorted.  Hopefully, round about the start of November, we might be able to return to a linear scale, if Dugald can get his curves under control.

Weighed out...

Yes indeed, a slight delay on this.  You'll just have to weight.  The thing is I don't believe our scales, telling me I'm only 90kgs in the buff.  Need to get it checked on a proper set.  Anyweigh, whatever the start point, my target is 80kgs.  At present I'm hoping to achieve this primarily through limiting alcohol consumption to levels consistent with maintaining an upright posture until bedtime and regular sexercise.  This is also good for developing arm strength - depending on the position, obviously.  Fine tuning will be achieved through running, cycling and swimming.

So I said "slap that, and ride the ripples"

Now we just have the issue of Brother Dugald's target.  I've done some research on this and I think the problem is that he's too porky to reach his keyboard.  Let's hope that once he's starved for a few days he'll be able to join in.  I did read some waffle on his FB that he was proposing 20% - admittedly he could manage that just from the chin and gut, but you or I would need a wasting disease, full-blown aids, veganism, multiple amputations or radical castration. However since the point is to get fitter these don't appeal.

Bottom line?  If Dugald gets to 95 before I get to 80, I'll eat my cat.  Graph to follow.

And so it begins.....

Weigh Day is upon us - my weekend was spoilt with several pints, some 'french martinis' and too much food and when I got on the scales this morning I was shocked that it wasn't worse than it was.........

Current weight is a slightly rotund, but better than it could have been 94.9 kg!

Target is 10% of body weight, so with a little bit of rounding down, I'm aiming for a slender, slim and sexy 85 kg!

My competitors are being slow with their submissions, but my diet hell has begun......

I think that the 'clinically obese' comment is slightly unfair, infact, I am offended to be classed as fat.......

Enough is Enough!

Just back from a trip to Bonnie Schoatland, where it struck me that Dugald really was getting a bit on the chubby side, even for his normal Hutt-inspired physique.  Now usually this doesn't bother me because when he or Gavin go up a size, I get a load of new clothes - what with them and Big Bad Bob (the progenitor of at least two of us), I haven't had to lay out on so much as a stitch for 20 years.

But then I saw Gavin and realised just how bad things were getting.

Gavin taking some light exercise

This was before his back-wax, mind, so he's lost a couple of stone already; but still, serious stuff.

Besides, having torn my calf while being soundly whipped at tennis by a 12-year-old, and consequently missing a whole summer of training, I have to admit I may be a few grammes over my optimum body mass myself.  Not actually clinically obese, like the other two, but still a wee bit, well, porky.

So, the race is on.  Targets and starting masses to follow...