The Fat Farm Candidate

ftsbull@att.net

I once played racquetball with a wealthy youngish American-Iranian home-builder from Ormond Beach,
FL named Morrie who was grossly overweight – like 300+ lbs! He admitted he sometimes got up in the
middle of the night and ate a full course meal. I barely beat him regularly, mainly because he was way
too fat. Well, he got tired of losing and challenged me to a best 2/3 game match, enlisting the aid the
coach-owner Steve Xnidas to help him. The bet? A dinner for two at the Top of Daytona elite
restaurant.

It didn’t work. I ran his ass off taking advantage of my weight and moving ability. First wife Babs
and I fully enjoyed the most expensive dinner on the menu. When I next saw Morrie at the Club, I said,
“Morrie, your main problem is a matter of who is in charge, the HORSE or the RIDER.” After getting a
quizzical look, I said, “A HORSE will do as it pleases if it’s RIDER allows it to. Your BODY is like
a HORSE that just wants to eat grass all the time, and dislikes being worked. You MIND is the RIDER
that must impose its will upon your BODY. It’s mainly a matter of WILLPOWER.”

I work the hell out of my HORSE and rarely allow it to eat more than it should, nor do I allow it to
exceed my self-established FIGHTING WEIGHT of 160 lbs. (I’m only about 5 ft. 7 in. tall.) Yeah, I pig
out now and then, but if my bathroom scale reads more than 160 lbs., I get pissed-off at myself and
“Go Spartan.” Excuse me while I go check my weight right now….

Oh, oh. I thought so because I can feel it. I’m in the RED ZONE at 159.5 lbs! I shall back off eating
my evening snacks of a heaping tablespoon of crunchy peanut butter, and my cheese/pretzel mini
sandwiches with a glass of red wine. I really feel great at about 156-157 pounds and what motivates me
the most is being a lot more agile on the racquetball court at that weight. The other motivating fact
is that I HATE TO LOSE!

Today is Sunday, August 31, 2014. Playtime is Tuesday morning, and I will lose at least 2 pounds by then,
you can bet on it! It’s tough enough to be competitive at 93, and carrying extra weight makes it just
that much tougher. Incidentally, I am still able to rise to the occasion when May and I do our Honeymoon
thing on Sunday afternoons, in case you are interested in what lies ahead for you if you stay in shape!

The Italian Stallion