Results

I hit the shelf.

The results for The 39th Expedition are in: -0.98% or -2 lbs.

And this is the part where I plug into how my daily macro averages were on point and matched the past. Eh, it's on the Fit page. Check it out.

...and once again proving that calories mean nothing as my daily calorie intake was 2272. Expeditions 28-32 and 34-38 were:

2253, 2111, 2152, 2306, 2304 | 2099, 2363, 2262, 2236, 2357

I even maintained my typical 87% calories from fat schema!

What ought I conclude? I got an Expedition (36) that is 10 calories less per day than the last one but gave 5.5 times the results? So you're telling me that 420 kcal total difference is the equivalent of 38,500 kcal? And what do we do with six-week periods where I ate MORE and lost MORE? C'mon, man! Yeah, let's put a nail in the coffin of that whole calories-in / calories-out nonsense. "Hello? Hello? Anybody home? Think Mcfly, Think."

Clearly, calories are serving as some sort of proxy for macros or a descriptor of something going on with the macros. But in this case, EVERYTHING was up to spec. I should have done what I've done. And maybe I have...

Interestingly enough, there are parallels to the past: check the comparison with this stage and my keto-turned-carnivore approach that did NOT track macros. From the same days of 210 to 252 at roughly the same place (223 vs. 204), I lost 2.75 lbs back in Jan-Feb 2021, nearly matching the 2 lbs this time around. Perhaps its purely coincidental, but I've got no explanation as to why I have nothing to show for my efforts. It's not unlike that Expedition where I worked out every day and ate right only to wind up right where I began.

(shhh...it's about the hormones)

I have high confidence that next weigh-in, I just may skip the 190s entirely. After that last two weigh-ins, it's time for a Breakout from Of Yachts & Speedboats of June-July 2020.

Breakout (breakout)
Take these chains from me
You held my heart for ransom
Baby, set it free

Nevertheless, I will make adjustments:

• Return to Fat Focus days.
• Bring Back Small Victory Win Conditions.
• Maintain a Spotify Subscription.
• Join Facebook on New Year's Eve.
• Restore This Site to Retrowave.

Not quite the fitness shift you might have expected?

Carnivore

I appreciate Kelly Hogan's take on the mental/motivation approach in her YouTube post from yesterday: Carnivore Story time: Shark's Teeth & 1954. For now, we share the same age before my soon leap to 46. And she looks GREAT!

I lean a little toward envy of people who have a cohort to band together and as a team accomplish success together. I wholly agree with Kelly on that—the value of folks who don't drag on ya, but encourage efforts. I cannot imagine what it would be like to have five carnivore friends where we're all encouraging and pursuing fitness together.

There are times I get down, like today's weigh-in. I should have broken through the 200-lb barrier 12 weeks ago. Nevertheless, here I am. I did what I set out to do and I've got nothing to show for it. I suspect if I didn't open up on my blog about all of this, I would silently just snag 5-6 cartons of Blue Bell and run my own Bless Your Rank.

While I have been on carnivore for over 8 months now, of late, I've been traveling on the great plateau in stall country. I suppose I could ascribe it to this gone haywire body of mine. I find this condition as a feature of my life, a blessed one, a reminder of my mortality, and a traveler that asks how important certain roads are in getting to where I'm going.

Time

These days, I've been gazing over my life far more than I ever have. My mind reflects on the important crossroads and the people who have traveled along with me along the way until their exit ramp came up.

There's value in providing a practical analog to the abstract of time.

With respect to viewing my life as a college football game, I've got about 4 minutes left in the 3rd quarter.

• The End of the 1st quarter:: Christmas 1993, high school sophomore
• The Start of the 3rd Quarter: Graduate school kickoff, August 2011, age 33
• The Start of the 4th Quarter: March 2028, age 50

The metaphor came to me as I listened to marching band covers–it has been a fun diversion, somehow related to my affinity for acapella.

Dungeons & Dragons

More related to me than what you may think on the surface, I had a lot of ideas in forming the backstory of Elf monk in DnD. It is sort of a...

• Kwai Chang Caine from Kung Fu meets...
• Morgan from The Walking Dead meets...
• The A-Team meets...
• Geralt from The Witcher.

And while all the write-up's ideas are my own with the exception of the Giant village and the Dwarf beast, ChatGPT rendered my details into a complete backstory.

Background of Geralt, the Elf Monk:

Name: Geralt

Aliases:

• Taur-rim (Elves): "Wild Stalker"
• Urg'glok (Giants): "Shadowstrike"
• Ungaz-Zammune (Dwarves): "Wild Friend"

Early Life: Geralt was born into the wild and raised by a pack of wolves, learning the ways of survival, loyalty, and the laws of nature. This upbringing shaped his instincts and skills, making him one with the wilderness until an Elven raiding party slaughtered his wolf family and took him captive as a youth. The Elves lit the bodies of his wolf family afire, forcing Geralt to watch as his only family burned.

Tragedy and Transformation: Taken by the Elves, Geralt's sorrow for his slain wolf family transformed into a fierce desire for vengeance. He was trained as a monk, but his heart remained wild. Discovering the Elven king's role in his pack's death, Geralt avenged them by killing the king. It was after this act that the Elves named him Taur-rim, "Wild Stalker," reflecting his untamed spirit and deadly precision.

Wandering Protector: Geralt became a fugitive, wandering from village to village, protecting the oppressed and fighting against tyranny. His journey mirrored that of a lone hero, using his skills to aid those in need and dismantle corrupt regimes.

Reputation and Names:

• Taur-rim (Wild Stalker): Among the Elves, Geralt is known for his forest prowess and predatory nature, symbolizing his deep connection to the wild.
• Urg'glok (Shadowstrike): The Giants call him this for his stealthy and deadly combat style, a name he earned when he infiltrated a Giant's fortress to free captive villagers, striking with lethal precision from the shadows.
• Ungaz-Zammune (Wild Friend): The Dwarves gave him this name after he saved a Dwarven settlement from a marauding beast, earning their respect and friendship through his loyalty and bravery.

Quarterstaff and Martial Arts: Geralt's quarterstaff, crafted from the heartwood of a tree growing where his wolf family was burned, symbolizes his connection to them and his vow to protect the innocent. His martial arts training emphasizes control, precision, and inner peace, helping him channel the rage from his family's death into focused, purposeful action.

Mentorship and the Name Geralt: After killing the Elven king, Geralt encountered an enigmatic wanderer who saw potential in him. This mentor trained Geralt further as a monk, focusing on the use of the quarterstaff to quiet his rage-filled mind. The wanderer named him "Geralt," inspired by the Germanic roots of the name, symbolizing "rule of the spear" and reflecting his mastery over his weapon and his role as a protector and avenger.

Philosophy: Guided by his own moral compass, Geralt operates from a chaotic-good perspective. He shuns material wealth and power, finding fulfillment in aiding the helpless and fighting oppression. His actions are unpredictable but always aimed at justice and freedom for the oppressed.

Rage and Control: Despite his training, Geralt always has rage just below the surface, a constant reminder of his tragic past. Through his monk training and mastery of the quarterstaff, he maintains control over this inner fury, using it as a source of strength rather than a hindrance.

Intricate Plot Involvement: The names given to Geralt by different races reflect his journey and the alliances he has formed. The Elven name, Taur-rim, points to his origins and the initial tragedy. The Giant name, Urg'glok, highlights his stealth and combat prowess. The Dwarven name, Ungaz-Zammune, emphasizes his role as a protector and friend to those in need.

The death of the Elven king left a power vacuum, causing unrest among the Elves. Meanwhile, Geralt's reputation as a wandering hero has made him a symbol of hope for the oppressed and a target for those in power. His journey continues, driven by the ghosts of his past and the quest for justice in a world rife with corruption and cruelty.

I had this idea in my head the other day while working on my Mid Year's Resolutions: what am I supposed to do with the rest of my life? Invariably, it swirls down the funnel to that ol' Bucket List, the checklist we hit before we punch out. I'm still working on that, but I find the exercise an invaluable tool to examine what dreams are upon my heart before pragmatism snuffs them out. I wrote this twenty years ago at 25, the first post of the biggest year of my life, 2004:

I have been on a great journey of the heart. I have dreamed dreams that are bigger than me. Instead of holding to "why" I have grasped "why not?" When one contemplates a dream, its first flight is delicate; its wings are fragile, like that of a butterfly. Questions of "how" blow a dream out of the air before it can extend its wings in open flight.

The Fruit of Fasting, 1/3/04

Having the freedom to say, "One day, years down the road, I'll do . . . . . . .," dismisses the wolves and their demoralizing hows'. It enables us the space to stretch out in the sunshine and radiate possibilities. Later, we can circle back and color within the lines with a timetable, budget, and feasibility.

To some extent, there might be some truth to our knee-jerk responses, assuming of course we're just not filling in the bucket with the things posted in the weekly flyer, stuff that folks say are the bucket list. How much has my heart held back from these words, "Oh, that would never work!"

The problem with bucket list items is that they come off as a visitor's guide, a brochure we pick up down in some hotel's lobby. Would I love to skydive? Absolutely! Does it matter if I do? Absolutely NOT! There's no steak in that five-minute dopamine streak for what kind of legacy is left in that bucket?

I am reminded of a book by Piper that I just might spend a week teaching the kids and one I ought to invest an afternoon into reading again, Don't Waste Your Life.

If my bucket list is shaping into a Chuck E. Cheese funzone, what is the framework of my life?

This vision shapes our day-to-day. Yes, the big picture can be unfurled from that scroll lying over there, but what about TODAY. What am I trying to achieve? Does it contribute just a little toward that parchment across the room? Or is it maintenance? Just to get by? How I don't want shallow victories!

Tell me somethin', girl
Are you happy in this modern world?
Or do you need more?
Is there somethin' else you're searchin' for?

I'm fallin'
In all the good times, I find myself longin'
For change
And, in the bad times, I fear myself

Lady Gaga & Bradley Cooper, Shallow

This morning, I wanted to read the obituaries to see if I knew anyone that had died. "Hey Billy boy, you're not even in your fifties yet!" I don't know why sometimes Kodachrome faces come to mind and I wonder whatever happened to them. Just an old nostalgic fool, I suppose.

I found an obituary site that ran a query based on high school. I equally had as many friends at Bartlett High as I did at my own Bolton High, so I started there.

My memory dinged: Timothy Sere.

I remember him. I instantly thought of a buddy of mine in high school from the summer of '95. We both were in the class of '96. He was a handsome fella and possessed a natural charisma, too. He joked and smiled. Sharing a similar build to my own, he stood about 6'1 and had floppy bangs that added to his resemblance to Creed's frontman Scott Stapp.

Enamored by the pretty, checkout girls with their flirting eyes, we tried our hand at seasoning wit into their small talk while we sacked groceries. Eventually, he would turn checker himself, tossing aside the mandatory apron. I would come to his aid to sack groceries, for it was difficult for a guy to get help. Fully alive with cascading vitality, he was a good guy and would make you walk away with a smile.

I believe he left by the time I returned to work at the grocery after wrestling in January '96. After gifting my Stairway to Heaven MIDI experience, I would leave there, too. College came and the time in that era became a relic. The now Tragic Kingdom of Piggly Wiggly turned to Yourself or Someone Like You at Wolfchase Galleria with the Spice of a Devil Without a Cause.

And Tim became another person who faded into the mists of time. I tend to think about those people as having never changed—isn't he still out there somewhere wearing khakis and a white dress shirt with a tie like I did at Piggly Wiggly? No, that place is NOT the hollow shell I saw in that 2024 walk to Starbucks.

Yes, it was the Tim I knew with the obituary, December 8, 1977 - January 24, 2022.

I nearly no longer recognized him—I had to check Classmates.com's archive of Bartlett High's 1996 yearbook to confirm. It has been a long haul since we were 17; I know at 336 lbs in 2017, I was unrecognizable.

Tim's obituary piece is my all-time favorite. Typically, obituaries are as one-note and boilerplate as a Chick-fil-A chicken sandwich. They cover the basics, but they leave a lingering desire for more. It always comes off as rushed. Next customer! But, for Tim's, well, just look at these excerpts:

Timothy M. Sere, 44, of Arlington, TN, peacefully passed away on Monday, January 24th after injuries sustained while rushing into a burning pet store to save a litter of purring kittens from certain doom. He also had complications from stupid Covid.

...

Before the age of 17, he spent most of his time fighting off adoring young ladies with sticks. When not busy with romantic activities, he devoted himself to his Jedi training and eventually earned the rank of "Almost Not A Nerd". Ultimately, he found his passion for comic books and accepted his "Nerd" persona more completely.

...

All of that said, Tim was most outstanding as a family man. His wife, Jennifer, was the light of his life! She made the first move and invited him on a camping trip with friends. Thankfully, he had an amazing personality because he might have overstated his manly capabilities a bit. By the time Jennifer found out that Tim couldn't bait his own hook, she was already in love. They were married on July 2nd, 2005 and spent the next 17 years building an incredible family together.

...

If you knew Tim, you would know that he didn't like to dress up so please dress comfortably. You can even join in with us and wear a Superhero shirt! He preferred Marvel over DC.

And while I remember the warmth of the guy and its reverberated through his obituary, it seems like this did not happen—how could it? The Tim I knew was full of life and it seems he remained that way. The world feels less without him.

He should be still alive. How can his story be already over? The smoke has yet to clear from the halftime show!

I found his headstone on Find a Grave. Seeing his casket is emotionally deafening. If my carnivore approach didn't come in 2020, that could've been me...

He's now buried in the cemetery behind my childhood home, the same place I lived when I drove that ol' '79 Ford pickup to work up at Piggly Wiggly.