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A Fat Guy’s Folly – Vacation, All I Ever Wanted…

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In preparation for the Challenge I’ve decided to head South on a five-day roller coaster riding, fried food eating, beer fueled vacation. Related, I have the best ideas. Ever.

(Actually, it’s my only extended vacation this year and it’s been planned for awhile but that doesn’t sound as cool. And, you know me I’m the epitome of cool.)

So, in celebration of my heading out of town and to commemorate the death of my life as I know it when I return, here are:

‘4 Things I Definitely Won’t Miss When I’m 26 days Into The Paleo Lifestyle And Want To Jab Myself In The Eye With An Asparagus Spear’

: Lack of sleep.
Normally, I can run about 5-6 hours of shut eye. That stands to change when I’m too tired to move thus falling asleep at 7pm and missing my nightly ‘Golden Girls’ episodes. Due to exhaustion I’m anticipating getting about 13 hours of sleep a night.

: More of, well me.
It will be nice at the end of 60 days to slip on those neon green spandex shorts I’ve been saving for a special occasion and stride into the gym looking a little less like a foot-long Kielbasa stuffed into sandwich size Ziploc. Instead, I’ll look more like a vacuumed sealed Vienna sausage. Win.

: Hangover Harry
Whiskey is a dangerous evening companion. One glass and you guys are best friends swapping stories. Three glasses in and your good natured cajoling takes on a harsher tone. Five glasses in . . . I’m waking up the next day with my head feeling like it’s been locked in a vice and my body aching in places I didn’t know could hurt. Luckily for me, 6oz of red wine is like eating a single Cheeze-It. Wholly unsatisfying yet somehow addictive.

: Banded Pull-ups
Every once in awhile the stars align and I can rip off a pull-up or two in a row. I think during those moments, the gravitational pull of the earth has stopped and time has been suspended. When the planet snaps back to its senses, I’m forced to grab a red band in an effort to get 8 or 9 pull-ups in a row. The hope is as the Challenge progresses, I won’t need science to go for a smoke break and I’ll be able to defy gravity all on my own.

All right friends, enjoy your vacation-less days. Or, if you’re going on vacation, grab a corn dog and hold it aloft in my general direction. I’ll do the same for you.

Signed,

Fat Guy In A Little Coat

P.S. — If the lyrics from the song above are stuck in your head, just head here for a little musical interlude to brighten your day.

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