Sputtering to the finish

A week can seem like a lifetime, at least when you're trying to get to the finish at 180 steps per minute.

There isn't much time left in this weight loss challenge of mine. The final weigh-in is six days away, which equates to about five more workouts before stepping on the scale. In the last year or so, I've put my body through as much stress as its seen in the previous 27 years together. I've ignored food temptations, "me" time on the couch in favor of sessions on the arc trainer, and have gotten myself in the best shape of my life for what will be the most important day of my life.

In terms of comedian Gabriel Iglesias, I've gone from level four of the "Five Levels of Fatness" to level one. No longer "fluffy", I am now safely in the "big" category. For those of you unfamiliar with the reference, Iglesias, who himself is a very, very large man, defines the five levels as "big," "healthy," "husky," "fluffy," and "damn!", recently adding a new category, "oh hell no!"

So with all these good changes, why does this last week feel like such a challenge?

My body is breaking down. I've pushed it too hard, and now it wants some payback. The 1,600-calories workouts have taken their toll on my muscles, my lungs, and my level of fatigue. Twice in the last week, I've had to stop before the end of a workout and change to an easier machine. Granted, part of this could be heat and humidity related- even in an air conditioned gym, it's still been 100 degrees outside, with humidity up somewhere around 15,000 percent.

More troubling, I still sweat like a 300-pound man. As a kid, I watched plenty of UConn basketball games with my family. UConn-Georgetown games back in the early 90s were especially memorable, and not just because it was a match-up of elite teams at the peak of their talent. Alonzo Mourning was a star center for Georgetown, and every time he took a trip to the foul line, the camera seemed to catch every bead of sweat pouring down his temples and arms as he prepped for a free throw. My mother, always a keen observer of player and fan attributes ("that big guy with the bad sweaters is sitting behind Calhoun again!"), never failed to make a disgusted comment at the volume of Mourning sweat.

Mom, I hate to break this to you, but it's a good thing you never see me at the gym. You would be shamed to learn that your baby boy perspires like Alonzo in a sauna.

The results are gross. The office upstairs, where I store my dirty laundry, consistently smells of sweaty Mattness. The gym clothes are segregated from other dirty clothes, out of fear that they'll soak up the rest of the laundry with moist must. Even after I shower at the gym, my body is still in perspiration mode, so the second the step outside, I find myself sweating again.

And then there's the cravings. I've been eating a ridiculous amount of fruit in recent months, replacing breads and grains as the centerpiece of my snacking routine. Lately, however, my tired body has been begging for a bagel. I've denied it as much as possible, but it's to the point where I no longer want to just fall off the wagon. I want to dive off into a pool of macaroni and cheese.

I am not going to make it to 80 pounds. With less than a week left, my weight loss stands at about 77 pounds. Unless I catch a stomach virus (something I'd rather avoid the week of my wedding, thank you), three more pounds is next to impossible. Even so, I'm very proud of the progress I've made, especially considering that the grand total from my fluffiest stage now stands at about 110 pounds lost.

But I also realize that everything that happens next week, including the wedding, doesn't change the fact that I made a commitment to take better care of myself. Working out six days a week for two hours a session may not be feasible with the responsibilities that I hope will come, and I may even allow myself to relax my routine a little bit. Yet this is a struggle that I will likely fight for the rest of my life, and if I'm not vigilant, the fluff will find its way back to my frame.

That, in turn, will be the bigger challenge, one that reaches far beyond the arbitrary finish line that comes with next Thursday's weigh-in. I feel like I am sputtering right now, and it's time to buck up.

In the meantime, I get married in nine friggin' days. Why does that feel less stressful than the concept of five more workouts?

To the STAT line for two free throws!

Days until wedding: 9 days. Wow.
Weight lost in Week 42-43: 1.6 pounds
Total weight loss after Week 40: 76.8 pounds
Progress toward 60 lb goal: 128 percent. It's just fun to keep calculating this!
Progress toward 80-pound goal: 96 percent. It may not happen by the wedding, but I will hit that A+
Weight left to lose: 3.2 pounds
Looking surprising suave in: tan suits
Favorite memory from the UConn-Georgetown rivalry: Ray Allen's off-balance runner drops, Iverson has no answer, Huskies win the Big East Tourney!
Full name of former Georgetown star center Dikembe Mutombo: Dikembe Mutombo Mpolondo Mukamba Jean-Jacques Wamutombo
Scrabble points awarded for putting down just one of those names on a Triple Word: unable to calculate as the result of game board explosion.