So. I'm poking around on Amazon for who knows what reason Monday, and suddenly it tells me "Dude, you're not even trying to lose weight. Stop disguising your fat ass and get Wii Fit."
Well, to be more accurate, my body is fortunately shaped in such a way that I can hide the 20-25 extra pounds I carry, and Amazon doesn't (yet) word its requests in such a way. (Rest assured that if Apple designed an e-commerce site of that size, it would have a "Genius" that would absolutely talk to you that way. If it's such a genius, why doesn't it figure out a way to play the songs I like without taking up half of the application's real estate?) But Amazon did point out that Wii Fit was in stock, and would I like one?
I said yes please, and I added that $4.99 for next-day shipping. And I went back to work. kind of. (My Facebook profile updates? Yeah, that must be some weird thing on their part. I mean, I'm not really on Facebook all the time.)
So yesterday, Wii Fit arrives ... but there's more to the story. Certainly you're aware of the snowstorm, right? Yeah, for once, the forecasters were right on target. In fact, I'm typing this from the comfort of my home right now, after spending 30 minutes shoveling about a foot of snow from my driveway. So anyway, the roads are bad, I know, but I have to get home, because they lock up the building at 6. (I need to see if I can get a key so I can hang out longer in such situations.) Not that last night would have worked ...
... because I registered for the online Jeopardy test, just so I could convince my friends I'll never appear on the show. (Okay, not true: just so I could actually try to be on the show. My knowledge isn't near broad enough to qualify. How do I know? Well, when you know you miss at least 7-10 questions, you aren't going to make it.) The Tuesday test was at 8. I left at 5:30.
At 7:55, I pull into the driveway, after gathering enough speed to get through the snow and go uphill (the Civic isn't a big car, you know, although at least it's heavier than my old Protege). I dash around the corner of the garage, grab Wii Fit off the porch (yeah, my neighborhood is old-school: no one messes with packages), rush inside, drop coat, gloves, and package, and log on.
Last year, I had to take the test at my server/old computer, the one wired to the modem. Proxy stuff and all that. This year, no issues at all. I log in immediately and see I have 6 minutes. Hang up coat, bathroom break, then take the test. After knowing I failed, I go outside, get the mail and the little package that was underneath the big one, and set up Wii Fit.
Of course I try to sync the board without a disc in the drive. duh. I sync it up and we begin.
First sign of trouble: there's no 5'8½". Height is measured in inches. (Ha. Should have done metric. I'd be ... um ... 68.5 * 2.54 ... um ... about 170 cm? Okay, 174, but not bad off the top of my head, right? In that alternate world on a Sliders episode where academics were valued like athletics, I'd have my own harem. And no, there is no link, because most of the episodes on IMDB don't even have keywords, much less a plot synopsis.) So, like at work, we round up. No, really. For this health thing, they measured me as ½ inch taller than I thought I was, and of course their system wouldn't accept halves. So I'm 5'9". Bonus!
It weighs me fairly accurately (maybe a little light), and suggests that I'm overweight. Um, yeah. Knew that.
Basic test. Balance? Done. I can haz balans. My Wii Fit age is 33. I quickly looked around to see if anyone had seen through the blinds that I kissed the balance board. (I didn't really. Figure of speech. Poetic license.) Sounds nice, but three years ago at Lifetime, I did their little assessment thing, and my "age" there was 30. That involved a bit more strength and cardio testing, so I suspect this one is a little easier on me.
So we need to get the BMI down, right? Makes sense. I'm 28, or 27.5, or something. Pick your weight goal, it says. 152 with abs of steel, I says. No, in this universe, it says. Right. So I click down. Tenths of a pound, huh? Our goal is a BMI of 22, and the BMI is updated as you set your goal. (Higher? You could use this to gain weight? I don't know about you, but motionless video games and pizza on the couch do that for me. Did I say couch? I meant sectional. Theater seating. Whatever.) So we begin the journey. I click it down ... 2 ... 4 ... 6 ... man, this takes a while ... 8 ... 10 ... suddenly I realize there's no weight goal, just a weight-loss goal, so now I'm doing subtraction in my head ... two years ago ... Discovery Health Challenge weight ... many years ago ... possible weight in col-
It won't let me set a weight-loss goal higher than 22 pounds. And my BMI at 164 is not 22. It's higher.
So you're saying I need to lose weight, but you won't let me lose the weight I need to? How cruel.
Okay, seriously, it's probably just an initial limitation, that you really shouldn't be trying to lose too much weight at once, and 22 pounds is about 12% of my weight, so it's not a bad goal at all. Other than the fact that when I did the DHC a few years ago, I got down to 170. Maybe a touch under 170. And that was with eating plans, weights, cardio, all that. And I was younger. And not working on my MSE.
But what the hell. I mean, might as well shoot for "damn", and if I miss, I end up with "not bad at all". So yeah, now we're looking at 164. In three months. Which is more aggressive than I was originally.
Oh wait, no it wasn't. oops. Right, so an invisible, forgotten goal doesn't work. right. So I gave myself three months, because there wasn't an option for 11 weeks (2 pounds per week).
And maybe at some point in the future, it'll let me pick a weight that'll give me a BMI of 22. Of course my frame probably won't sustain it - I've long ago conceded that my build is "stocky", I was just running around like crazy as a teenager and constantly burning calories to hide that build - but if I end up at 170, I mean, that's not so bad.