Zombies, Run!

Please, step away from the gravy.
If you were unfortunate enough to open the steam room door at the Mid-Delmarva YMCA, you would have seen me, naked and lobster red, wearing an expression of asymmetrical anguish. I looked a bit like the cover of +Pink Floyd's The Wall film. The middle of my back and left side of my neck were cramping in a paralyzing way and I prayed silently for it to pass before a someone looked in and ran, screaming, from the steam room.
Worse, and as a fat guy this is a constant top concern, I worried my multiple-muscle spasm would be mistaken for the heart attack anyone who looks at me knows is overdue. At the gym, "heart attack" especially on an over-40 male, is a bell that can't be un-rung. If someone saw me, red, sweaty and twitching in the steam room, I could depend upon a trip to the hospital at the very least. The cramp eventually released me and migrated to my inner thigh and lower back, so I limped toward the showers, where I would punish every muscle with cold water until I began to worry for my own health. It was a small price to pay for surviving two out of three zombie attacks.

For those unfamiliar with the +Zombies, Run! app, it combines role playing with exercise. The premise is, you are a "runner," scavenging food and supplies for a town. The app includes a story line and connects you to various characters who give you advice, make demands about what you're to pick up on your runs and occasionally scream that you're being pursued by a number of zombies and you need to keep running, only faster.
The acting is no worse than you'd find in any zombie film and, after finishing only the first mission, I was already calculating how dangerous it would be to run for another half-hour in the evening. I have a bit of a consumption addiction. I burn through books at the cost of one or two nights' sleep and have had to stop watching complete series' almost altogether, because of my compulsion overindulge. If it is pleasurable, I enjoy it to excess.
I would like to say a person couldn't get to my weight without being overindulgent, but that's not quite right. There is a subtle difference between overeating and being overindulgent. I feel as if it's the quality of the consumption. It is impossible to "overindulge" on a Big Mac or a Hungry-Man Dinner. This belief of mine provides a little insight to my sickness: I want to lose a lot of weight so that I can overindulge without being lumped in with the cartoonish, fast-food-scarfing, Rascal-riding, reality-show-obsessed fat American.
The reason know-it-all overweight white guys exist as a cliche, is the general assumption that fat people are stupid. How being an overbearing know-it-all is supposed to erase that fact is beyond me. Frankly, as a fat person, I have to say this generally is a safe bet. I understand and fully accept that no intellectual feat of mine will distinguish me from the tens of thousands of obese morons chewing with their mouths open at +Buffalo Wild Wings.
Wow. That reads angrier than I thought it would. Anyhow, back to the zombies:
After 11 days of exercising over the course of about three weeks, I haven't lost much weight but I can feel my health improve. We're going to call this Day 1 of the reinvented Y Are You Naked blog. I'm at 306 pounds as of this morning's weigh in. I'll be back soon with an update as well as (hopefully) some fun stories.
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