The final days of Panda Express

“I know you’re in Vegas partying your ass off right now,” the message went, “but sober up for  a sec and e-mail me back!”

We hadn’t even had our first workout yet, and my new trainer was already on my ass.

I was due for a weigh-in on or before Monday, but I hadn’t yet picked a time. I’d been putting it off. This was the last week of my old lifestyle, and I wasn’t ready to get into next week mode.

Next week? Next week is the beginning of a new chapter in my life.

This week? This is Panda Express Week.

Next week is the start of a 70-day supervised weight loss program. This week I’m in Las Vegas.

Next week is the start of a new diet. This week I’m drinking Long Islands.

Next week is the start of the “Just Lose It!” contest at my gym. This week I’m eating Chinese noodles, orange chicken and Bejing beef.

This is Panda Express Week.

Next week I begin a quest to lose 50 pounds in 10 weeks. That 50 would take off the 25 I’ve gained in the past two years, and the 25 I needed to lose before that.

“Normally I wouldn’t recommend that much that fast, but you can do it,” my trainer, Paisley Ann Meekin, told me during our first official consultation. “And besides, this is a contest.”

I don’t actually know how much I weigh right now, and if I had the courage to step on a scale I might find out that I’ve put on more than 25 in two years. I’ll wait until next week for that sobering statistic. This is Panda Express Week.

It didn’t take me a New Year’s resolution to decide to lose weight.

Last spring I bought a membership at the Lloyd Athletic Club where next week’s Just Lose It! contest begins. I began working out in earnest, using the elyptical machine for 30 minutes or an hour, three or four days a week. I thought to myself, “Lose the 25 you’ve gained in the past two years, then get yourself a trainer and get serious about the next 25.”

Problem is, I never lost the first 25. And I never changed my routine. Or my diet.

“Eight-five percent of this will be your diet,” Paisley told me. “The exercise and other stuff is only 15 percent.”

That’s the hard part for me, because I’m a bachelor, I’m self-employed and I eat out two-thirds of the time. I find virtually no utility in cooking meals. When I’m hungry and on the run, I like instant gratification. I find utility in beefy five-layer burritos, angus beef burgers and, of course, a little place called Panda Express.

When I decided to enter the Just Lose It! contest, I pondered writing a blog, but then decided against it. Fat man loses weight and finds redemption seemed too much of a cliche to me — too gimicky, and too formulaic (see also: “Biggest Loser“). But during our first meeting, Paisley told me I had to keep a food journal. When I told her I’d already decided against blogging the experience, she objected.

“It will give you the fastest and best results,” Paisley said. “It creates mindfulness if you write things down.”

She’s right. I find writing to be a mental exercise that adds explanations for actions, meaning to choices and closure to past events. Writing to me is theraputic, and it’s fun, too — especially when I sit down to write and the words take me somewhere I never expected.

I told Paisley I’d do whatever she tells me to do for 10 weeks so long as I lose weight. But I added two conditions.

“Before the contest starts I’m going to Vegas,” I said. “And the week before our first session is Panda Express Week.”