The Ultimate Fat Guy Workout

I understand putting together the words "fat guy" and "workout" in a post title is somewhat of an oxymoron, but I swear this has a point. Well, it has about as much of a point as anything you'll find on this site.

I came up with this idea a few months ago when I found myself stuck at the mechanic with my truck up on the lift for at least an hour. I had nothing planned and no one around to stop by and help kill the time.

Unable to simply sit in the waiting room — which had no television and only car magazines — I was forced to explore an unfamiliar town on foot.

Since the road was slated to the west, westward was where I headed. After about 15 minutes, I happened upon a small strip mall occupied with a liquor store, cigar shop, deli, and a doughnut shop.

As you would expect, the doughnut shop's lovely neon blue and red sign called to me like ... uh ... like a doughnut shop would call to a fat dude forced to walk around for no damn reason.

Anyway, feeling pretty proud of myself for "exercising" for the past quarter hour, I was convinced I needed to be rewarded. The prize: a dozen glazed doughnut holes.

Why doughnut holes you ask, well, here's a little back story.

About a year ago I found out the hard way that we, as Americans, have too much freedom. Namely, when I head into a doughnut shop for a couple of regular chocolate sprinkles, I noticed a whole dozen only cost $6. And no one man should be able to purchase 12 doughnuts without proof they will be shared.

It's the same reason you can only get two beers when you head to the ballpark.

Well, that's a deal too good to pass up. Those dozen, regular-sized doughnuts were my sole source of sustenance for that day. Let's just say the next day did not go well. It was when I came up with the theory of the "food hangover." But that's for another post.

OK, let's get back to "Ultimate Fat Guy Workout."

A dozen doughnut holes is just the right amount of doughnut for me, as well as the rest of humanity for that matter. The holes were definitely a most wonderful reward for my short journey.

Then, after a short conversation with the shop's owner, as well as a forgettable interview on the Today Show, I headed back to pick up my truck.

As you may recall, I headed west in the first place because the road slid downhill. I often have this problem. I head the easy way, not realizing I will just have to head back uphill to return to my original destination. I reluctantly accept responsibility for my ignorance.

While sluggishly carrying my mass up the incline — resembling a slow moving sheet of ice in the Arctic — I realized I had accidently stumbled upon the perfect workout for me and my people.

Think about it. I got a good 30 minute workout, which most nutrition folk would agree is a proper amount of time to maintain a healthy lifestyle. But I also got to indulge in the glory that is fried dough sloppily smothered in liquified sugar. Which is just the thing those same folks would say help maintain an unhealthy lifestyle.

I get to feel good in two, distinct ways. I am staying healthy, while at the same time, satisfying my belly beast. 

That, ladies and gentlemen, is what we call killing two birds with one stone.

I (heart) pie.

Mount Rushmore of Food or: Thank the Lord for Chadwick for Giving Me an Idea When I Was Mentally Tapped Out

I understand I am woefully under qualified to speak about the greatest eating experiences in this country. I have only lived in a select few areas in my short time on this Earth, but I think I can come up with four quality restaurants to be immortalized on the Fat Guy Report's Mount Rushmore. 

I decided to choose chain restaurants for this purpose. Later, we'll delve into more individualized eateries.

McDonald's

Now, I can hear most people I know hemming and hawing about this first selection. Whenever you discuss the best fast food restaurants, someone always chimes in with the classic anti-McDonald's diatribe you hear far too often.

You know what? I can guarantee you that same person not only has eaten at McDonald's since making that statement, but they enjoyed their meal.

Numbers don't lie. The Golden Arches are the standard-bearers of fast food. Period. They have the best french fries, best desserts, and, yes, even the best burgers. These are facts.

People will argue with this selection, but there is no arguing with sales numbers.

Favorite meal: Two cheeseburger meal, fries, Coke, and three chocolate chip cookies.

Red Robin

There has to be a place on this mount for the family restaurant. Places like Chili's, T.G.I. Fridays, or The Olive Garden have a foothold on the American public. They are some of the most profitable enterprises in this country, and none serve up better grub than Red Robin.

The burgers are the best. So are the onion rings. But the best of the best this franchise has to offer are the steak fries.

The fact they are a bottomless basket, moves them right to the center of the fat guy's soul.

Favorite meal: Whiskey River burger, bottomless fries and a beer.

Tilted Kilt

I had no idea this was a chain when I first entered its hallowed walls in Las Vegas. And I don't care. The Tilted Kilt is the greatest pub experience I have ever had.

The Celtic-themed restaurant/bar offers a wonderful array of tap beers, liquor, and good ol' fashion bar food. But, as evidenced in the photo, the Tilted Kilt offers far more than just booze and grub.

Favorite Meal: Killian's Irish Red and whatever these professional staff members feel like serving.

Smith & Wollensky

This is, by far, the greatest eating experience I have ever had at a chain. It's a high-class, high-priced establishment. So, obviously, I have only ate their once. However, I have never enjoyed a meal more.

Between the atmosphere, diverse bread basket, and quality cuts of meat, there are no holes in this selection. In fact, much like George Washington on the actual Mount Rushmore, you cannot celebrate the history of chain restaurants without Smith & Wollensky.

Favorite meal: Veal Shank, mashed potatoes, bread, veggies, and a glass (or ten) of red wine.

I (heart) pie.

Childhood Obesity: National Pandemic or Evolutionary Progress

Stay with me on this one because you might not get what I'm saying on the first attempt. In fact, you should read it twice, then send a link to two friends who have never read the Fat Guy Report and get their opinions. I know this sounds like a cheap trick to bump my numbers, but I swear it's not. I just think this is something that needs to be discussed.

(Editor's note: This is a cheap trick to bump my numbers.)

Eventually, every local news station or hack scientist finds a lull in time and devotes their resources to the "crisis" that is childhood obesity. I'm not saying that being a FFG (Future Fat Guy) doesn't have some negative health consequences, but you really only see these kind of reports on slow news days or from increasingly outdated research centers.

Well, that was the case a few days ago when I happened upon the local news here in Los Angeles. At first, it just brings back a flood of personal memories of myself as a FFG. A most upsetting time if I don't say so.

Anyways, I got to thinking while watching a seemingly endless progression of chubby children flashing on the screen. "You know what?" I contemplated aloud. "These kids have it a lot easier than I did."

It's true. As I was growing into my own in the early 1990s, I can only remember one, maybe two other fat kids in my class of 30 students. Now, if you believe the statistics, there's enough fat kids in each class in America to make up a little FFG crew.

As I have well noted in this forum, the fat guy crew is the greatest part of being a fat guy. It took me until high school, and really college, to find my place in a quality fat guy crew. Today, these kids get to share that experience at a much younger age.

The key to a fat guy crew is learning to feel empowered by your size, rather than the shame often levied on the rotund by the svelte masses.

Not to restate the painfully obvious fact the Fat Guy Report was founded on, but being a fat guy is something to celebrate. The problem for most of my brethren in the Fat Guy Coalition is that we didn't understand that lesson until much later on in our lives.

Now, with the growing abundance of FFGs in the country, this is a realization most of our little brothers will come to much earlier.

And that means a nation of confident fat guys from sea to shinning sea.

I understand that it is very unlikely to happen in my lifetime, but I believe we are at the dawn of an evolutionary shift — one where life will begin rewarding its above-average-sized residents.

Think of it this way: If you have a forest full of bears all relatively the same size, and then introduce a family who average 100 pounds heavier than the status quo, wouldn't that family immediately become the alpha members of their species? Of course.

However, in our world, the same does not hold. That is all going to change.

Eventually, the largest young men on the playground will no longer have to put up with the verbal barrage of spite we had to endure as children. One day, the biggest will be the baddest.

That's progress. That's innovation. 

That sounds like a damn great place to live.

(Editor's note: Don't forget to send to two friends. Also, if I die, I want this post written on my tombstone. And while we're here, let me extend a belated welcome to Johnnie Boy and his beautiful better half who have been a part of the FGC since the beginning. While no longer big enough to be Big John, he and Jaime's love and support will always be an ingredient to the FGR's foundation. I'm eternally thankful.)

I (heart) pie.

Yeah, I Get It, Doc. But What About The ...

Rich people often divide themselves into two, distinct categories — old money and new money — to differentiate between those who have family money and those who made their own riches. Even though the Fat Guy Report is a welcoming environment for all in the coalition, we have a similar division amongst our quarters.

We have the separation of the old fat and the new fat.

It comes down to your childhood. I was a fat kid and had to deal with all the slings and arrows that accompany such a youth. By the time I was in my late teens, I was comfortable with growing up into a fat man. On the other hand, new fat is the fat guy who didn't start to properly fill out his form until at least his late teens or twenties.

It is important to know the difference in order to understand just how awfully embarrassing and infuriating it is to go to the doctor as a fat guy. Those on the new fat side of the line may have noticed this over the years, but as a member of the old fat clan, you don't see the difference unless you go with someone else to the doctor.

What you don't know unless you're one of us is that doctors never actually care what it is we have when we walk through those doors. He or she is only concerned with our weight. 

I go in with a bad flu (or any physical ailment for that matter), I have to sit through a 20 minute speech about how I need to change my diet and exercise more vigorously.

Here's the thing I never understood about that damn speech. I know I'm fat and understand the best way to lose pounds. It's not a surprise. Even if I had some historic sense self delusion, I figured out I'm a fat guy when I had to stop buying clothes off the rack at the mall or when that same disgusted look I've seen countless times crawl across a women's face at a bar. 

The speech is just unnecessary.

But here's the really weird thing. I thought this was what almost everyone had to deal with at the doctors. Not the fat guy speech, of course, but I figured doctors simply found a fault with everyone who came into their examination rooms. 

I'm not sure what the doctor would choose outside of weight, but I imagined everyone had to sit through some needless speech for one thing or another. That was until I accompanied a friend to the doctor.

It was a truly eye-opening experience. The doctor came in, said a few obligatory words of welcome, then asked what was wrong. After being told of the problem, the doctor simply explained what was going on and wrote a prescription. Done and done.

Everyone of us old fat members reads that last paragraph with a blending sense of wonder and hostility, for we have had such a welcoming experience.

I once had a trip to the doctor that went almost as smoothly, but that was only because I was adamant to avoid the speech and simply turn the conversation back to my inflamed throat. It worked most of the time, but then you always get the last bit of humility while walking out the door.

It may be a mention about diet, or even a damn pamphlet. This time it was a "suggestion" to stop by the health and nutrition building on my college campus.

Yeah, Doc. Will do. Right after I pick up the antibiotics to fix what's actually wrong with me.

I (heart) pie.

Back After A Break With Some Good News

While I had promised to never take off such a stretch of time again, these last few weeks haven't been the easiest for me. And though I'd love to dig into the details with my fellow Fat Guy Coalition brethren, I think it's best we get back to work.

Once I had realized it had been a week and a half since I had last posted (which has now turned into three weeks), I felt I had to come back with something special. I've spent the past few days mulling over the possible ideas and figured out a plan.

I'm going to begin a grassroots campaign for Coco's Restaurant.

Now, I understand this isn't anything Earth shattering, but I feel like all FGC needs to know about Coco's. 

In an earlier (and one of my favorite) posts, I recalled the tale of the San Jose Denny's Crew. So, you know I have a soft spot for the Big D. However, after eating underneath that beautiful buzzing purple light, it'll be a cold day in hell when I choose a Denny's over my new love.

It's a basic story to tell: Same prices. Much, much better food.

I can't even explain in full detail how wonderful this place is except to say I never once felt sick — a common Denny's occurrence. You get real potatoes with your breakfast, and can have this delicious two mini burgers with a Caesar salad meal. 

For something that cheap, you expect it to taste, well, tasteless. If that makes sense. But that isn't the case at Coco's. 

I could go on, but I think the point has been made. However, I would have to give up my seat at the head of the table at the Fat Guy Report if I didn't mention the three greatest words ever conjured up in the English language ... 

FRESHLY BAKED PIES!

That's right. I had to go all caps on that one. You really can't hold that against me because, as you all know by now ...

I (heart) pie.