Stuff - and by that, i mean things in general - works out for the greater good, most of the time.

The dragonboating season finished out for me, as i knew it would, and i had not dropped the pledged 25 pounds. The whirlwind vacation through Canada’s East coast saw to that, what with all the authentic maritime cuisine like french fries and ice cream. My one and only chance to drum on the boat during a race was tied up in that little wager, and so i regret to say that i did not get to drum during a race.

i did, however, get to drum.

During the final practice before our last race of the season, Lake Ontario was churned up delicious frozen cream at one of Halifax’s many and varied ice cream stands. Right off the top of the practice, coach Mike asked me to sit at the front of the boat where the drummer usually sits. It was my big chance! At first, i thought it was a consolation prize for losing 15 pounds instead of 25 this summer. Then we got out on the water.

While offering the best view for the least effort and easily the most excitement on the boat, the drumming seat is the scariest thing i’ve ever plunked my bum on, excluding my time in prison. Not only were the waves huge and the bow of the boat was slapping me up and down like those little wittled wooden men on grandpa’s slappy puppetshow kneeboard, but the two paddlers at the front of the boat kept punching their fists up two inches from my snoot every time they took a stroke. It wasn’t too long into the practice before i realized why i was up there: i wasn’t being rewarded for weighing less - i was being used to weigh down the boat.

i rued every one of those precious 15 pounds i’d lost as the boat chucked me up and down time and again, every stroke threatening to take out a tooth, every wave drinking more and more unwholesome Lake Ontario water into the boat until we were in danger of capsizing. Through the middle of the practice, the coach swapped me out from the front, nerves frazzled, to give some of the even larger fellows a chance to see what drumming was like. Suffice it to say, i’m going to more carefully map out a reward system next time i set out to lose a ton of weight, before i open my mouth and blurt out “10 pounds and i get to clean your bathroom!!” “25 pounds and you get to drive a nail into my eyeball!!”

All in all, my experience dragonboating was just that - an experience. i don’t know if i’d do it again, and if i do i don’t know if it will be with that particular team. Some of the folks were alright, but by and large they were a crew of suit-wearing financial types who desperately relied on alcohol as their fount of fun. My crap, but i find that kind of people exceedingly boring. They just can’t seem to enjoy themselves unless they have a drink in hand. What did they do when they were 8 years old and looking to have fun? Drink? … probably. Misgivings aside, if dragonboating was good for anything, i certainly did lose weight, as promised.

Again, there are advantages and disadvantages to losing 15 pounds and, being a dragonboat-is-half-empty (but we’re still gonna capsize) type of person, i’m especially skilled at honing in on the disadvantages. For one, it’s only 15 pounds. That means i’m still 35 pounds heavier than my target weight. i lifted something that weighed 35 pounds the other day, and it was shockingly heavy. i was precisely that thing too heavy. Where is it all hiding? i can’t imagine. i mean, it was a heavy little thing! i didn’t even think i weight anywhere near as much as it did. But apparently i do. That, and more.

But i reiterate my credo: baby can’t see me fat. i still have until the beginning of March to shed the 35 pounds before my baby lays eyes on me and rejects me wholesale because i’m overweight. Phase two of my plan involves going back to the gym, which will be very difficult for me unless i set some kind of routine. As i proved with dragonboating and pilates before it, i am extremely loyal to things i don’t enjoy. That’s why i brush my teeth every night.

Ok - who am i kidding? i don’t brush my teeth every night. i hate brushing my teeth.

And THAT is precisely why i’m overweight. Somehow. i don’t know … i don’t think i can follow the logic any further.

But the gym! The gym does provide a variety of programs for me to despise and, consequently, pledge my undying devotion to. These programs include tae kwon whatever, fuji camera jitsu (or something), pilates (pronounced “pie - LOTS”, for the uninitiated), aquafat, and squish - a racquetball sport, so-called because i’m absolutely awful at it. i used to play squish quite regularly a few years ago, and i was even on a ladder, where i was the most losing player in the most losing division. i won exactly zero games. The absolute low point was losing to a mother of two who quit in th middle of the game. Aces!

But no matter - baby can’t see me fat, and baby ain’t gonna be fat neither. i refuse to let my complete physical ineptitude transfer to her. There are some parents at my church who have their daughter in figure skating, and she’s pretty hardcore at it a few times a week, but they themselves are completely non-athletic and really actually rather round. That’s not gonna be me. i think it’s a by hypocritical. No. Throughout her childhood, if i’m not active, i’ll at least make my daughter think i’m active. i’ll constantly drop her off at swimming programs and soccer games while wearing a sweatband and JP’s, telling her that i have to duck out to a track meet or a shark wrestling competition. Then, if i actually do meet track or wrestle sharks, so much the better. But if i just so happen to sneak around the corner and cuddle up to a nice bacon cheeseburger, what’ll she know? She’s six.

And daddy’s the biggest sports star in the world. He once drummed on a dragonboat, you know.