Run tubby, run!

     Some of you may know that I never try to post any sort of actual self portrait. This is honestly as close as I get. So, someone has sort of let himself slip over the past couple of years and now he has to buckle down and endure the pain and humiliation inherent in any weight loss program. Boo.
     The whole exercise thing isn't really a problem. I'm more than happy to walk (no running. I hate running.), lift heavy objects and even, dare I say it, participate in sport-like activities. The real problem is that I have no choice but to engage in that practice celebrated by masochists the world over: dieting.
     As I'm sure most of you know, the root word of "diet" is "die." That is what I would rather do most days instead of denying myself the wondrous bounty of the metaphorical global buffet. But thanks to past transgressions, I have to either substitute pressed sawdust for the foods that make me happy or look like I frequent the regular kind of buffet. So, I suffer.