Hi, I’m that guy who runs Ed Uncovered. You might remember me from such series as The McWorkout and The McWorkout.
That madness finished a fortnight ago and I’ve since recovered from the trauma of living off McDonald’s. Now it’s time for something different: a month spent training hard while eating clean. It’s The McWorkout with the ‘Mc’ taken out. It’s The McWorkout with the junk food taken out. It’s nothing like The McWorkout.
How clean is clean?
To some, eating clean means insisting on Free Trade, vegan, artisan, organic, hand-reared, gluten-free wank.
To skint bloggers, it means buying as much healthy shit as you can for a tenner in Lidl. Due to my budget and paucity of hipster douchebaggery, I don’t care:
Where my food comes from
How many bearded men created it with love
How many animals were trampled to death in its manufacture
I’m not saying you shouldn’t care about these things, merely that I won’t be during The Workout. There are only two things I need to know:
Is it nutritious?
Is it free of preservatives and other crap?
Just as The McWorkout was governed by a set of rules, The Workout will adhere to certain strictures:
1.From Monday 9th June, I must eat clean for 28 days. This calls for shunning all processed foods including takeaways, supermarket meals and pre-packaged food (salads; sandwiches; pretty much anything I haven’t made myself).
2. I can dine out (if I can afford it), but the food needs to be cooked freshly as opposed to being heated by a microwave technician – which rules out most mid-priced pubs and restaurants.
3. As with The McWorkout, I am allowed a maximum of two cheat meals a week – which in this case would comprise anything that I haven’t prepared from scratch. I’ll be doing everything in my power to avoid cheating however, if only for the sake of muh gainz.
4. As part of the experiment, I’ll be cutting out wheat and gluten. Why? Dr Chris Fenn explains more in the dropdown section below. If you’re interested in The Workout from a health perspective, her words are worth your time.
Dr Chris Fenn
“Cut out wheat and gluten. Gluten is a protein found in wheat, rye, barley and oats (you could eat oat-based foods if you opted for avoiding just wheat). Wheat used to be fine (folk have eaten bread from wheat for centuries), but the cereals grown today are so different to the strains we are used to. The bread made from this wheat is ‘fast bread’ as explained in one of my earlier pieces and is best left out of your diet. This means that you have to ditch the breakfast cereals (as most are based on wheat, oats or rye). Definitely ditch processed breads, wraps and sandwiches. Pasta and pizzas are out, unless gluten-free (many takeaway places do gluten-free versions.) Gluten-free pizzas are horrible – the base is like cardboard – but GF pasta is really nice and hard to tell the difference.
Eat good quality fats (to replace those you were getting from McD’s meals). Foods which contain decent fats are oily fish – salmon, tuna, herring, sardines, mackerel) – unsalted and unroasted nuts – almonds, Brazils, cashews, walnuts; sunflower seeds and pumpkin seeds, flax seeds (also known as linseeds) – avocados, tahini (sesame seed paste, used to make hummus) and cold pressed vegetable oils such as olive oil. Organic full fat milk also has much more good fat compared with non-organic semi- or skimmed milk. So a really good thing would be to switch to using organic (blue top) full fat milk, to drink or for cereal (decent muesli) or porridge.
Limit sugar intake to sugars in their natural form. Eat whole fruits – not smoothies or fruit juice; these are just concentrated forms of sugar – and don’t think it’s OK because it’s natural sugar. It may be natural sugar, but your body likes to get it in small quantities in the form of munching on an apple, pear, orange, berries or a few grapes.
Eat more antioxidant nutrients – from fruit and veg (especially blueberries, strawbs, rasps etc which are now in season).
No junk food – fried takeaway food (made using crap oil). Ditch fried foods and sandwiches.
Examples of simple meals which tick all the boxes are:
- Breakfast: scrambled egg, poached eggs with grilled tomato, mushrooms, bacon, baked beans.
- Natural yogurt with chopped strawbs (or any fruit), sunflower and pumpkin seeds, nuts added.
- Bean casserole with rice (a sort of chilli con carne with beans instead of mince).
- Baked beans – but not on toast.
- Mashed avocado or hummus on oatcakes or rice cakes.
- Peanut butter on oatcakes or rice cakes (or any wheat-free cracker).
- Mince and tatties.
- Cauliflower cheese – made with a cheese sauce made from full fat milk, cornflour and decent cheese.
- Veggie soup with loads of beans added (homemade or a good quality soup and then lob in a tin of chick peas or butter beans for added protein).
- Omelette with cheese or ham or potato (Spanish style).
- Mackerel fillets with veg or salad.
- Loads of salad stuff with added nuts, avocado, ham pieces and a honey/mustard olive oil dressing.
Those are my ideas. If this seems too severe, you could avoid all bread, pizza, wraps, wheat-based pasta and instead get some wheat from decent homemade bread or from a small bakery (don’t be fooled by the supermarket in-store bakery – this is crap bread, despite the amount of seeds or olive oil or walnuts they add to make it sound healthy and fancy!). Breakfast could then include a decent muesli such as the Dorset Cereal range with whole (full fat/blue top) milk – organic is best. Otherwise make decent porridge (5 minutes in a pan using full fat milk, or add this afterwards) but don’t use the over-processed porridge pots which you shove in the microwave for 2 mins. Go for the real thing, as porridge is such a good food (if you like it) but is ruined by the instant versions so stay away from these.
Bread/wheat/gluten and wraps are all best avoided. You may as well just ditch the bread altogether, rather than let it sneak in here and there with a poached egg. Then you will have a consistent platform on which to base the results after another month.
When you eat porridge, buy the decent stuff. A 1 kilo bag of organic rolled oats – or jumbo if you prefer – is about £1.20 and will make enough porridge for a week. The instant pots are over-processed and overpriced (even the so-called natural ones, without the maple syrup flavour). Stand over a stove for 5 mins and cook the real thing. Add salt to bring out the flavour and honey or brown sugar if you want, and enjoy with full fat organic milk. Yum.”
What’s in it for you?
The Workout’s benefits to me – improved health, fitness and smugness – are obvious. But what’s in it for you?
The way I see it, this challenge should appeal for the following reasons:
Entertainment. Remember how My McWorkout Diary was kinda fun? (If you don’t, the best bits are coming up shortly.) I won’t be living off McDonald’s this time, so I can’t promise you’ll find me running around Barcelona Airport in search of gainz stations. Still, it’s the same guy – the same bumbling guy – telling the story: I suspect The Workout’s gonna be good.
Education. What can be achieved in a month of healthy living? What will all that good food and vigorous exercise do for body and mind? And is it possible to live healthily without turning into a sanctimonious prick? We’re about to find out.
Interaction. During the month, I want to hear your recipes: healthy meals, shakes, whatever. I’ll try ’em and rate ’em for taste and nutrition. In fact, you can start now: email your favourites to firstname.lastname@example.org or submit them via FB or Twitter. They don’t have to be complex – in fact most of my meals will be tard simple.
So long as they’re healthier than this, I promise to give them a go:
Speaking of tards, I’ve bought a George Foreman to help with the challenge (to be henceforth referred to as ‘the GF’). George is a genius, but his grill is made for people like me:
What to expect
1. One Workout blog a week. Every Monday, I’ll record my meals, cooking time, nutritional intake, expenditure, body stats and Workout Diary. There’ll be some educational stuff and there’ll be some fun stuff, even if it’s just detailing my complete failure at life.
2. Basic recipes. I might use complex words, but I’ll be describing simple meals. I’m a single guy in a bedsit; I can eat grilled chicken and veg several times a day without getting rustled. See all that time you spend laying a table cloth and carving tomatoes into little pointy stars in the hopes of cooking your beau into bed? That’s time I get to spend fapping.
3. Workout routines and tips. There wasn’t much time to talk fitness during The McWorkout. This time around, I’ll detail the cardio, abs, chest and other routines I’m using. I’ll also be publishing a series of Top Tips on how to maximise your gainz, liven up your workouts and even pick the perfect playlist. (Don’t worry, you don’t have to endure the same skull-crushing tunes as me.)
4. Themed days. I’m gonna have a vegetarian day, where I try to get muh protein quota without devouring delicious dead animals. I’m also gonna run Cheap Tuesdays, which sounds like a student night, but will consist of buying my day’s food for less than a fiver.
5. No cam-whoring (excluding the gratuitous gallery at the bottom of this page). Like you, I’m sick of the sight of my emaciated hairy chest. We’ll keep it under lock and tee for now.
Dr Chris Fenn
Dr Fenn is a fountain of healthy knowledge. While I don’t have space to publish her every utterance, I’ll do my best to share the best bits as The Workout progresses. Her clean eating advice can be found in the dropdown section a few paragraphs above, while her final thoughts on The McWorkout and its after-effects can be found below.
I got my blood results back last week, and the most interesting revelation is that the damage caused by a month of McDonald’s was surprisingly slight. Remember how I ate 160% of my RDA salt errday? Well, according to the blood results, my sodium levels ended the month lower than when they started. There are various reasons why this could be the case, so don’t go thinking that 99 McDonald’s meals won’t take their toll on your body. I’ll let Dr Chris take over:
“Your latest blood tests do not show any dramatic changes. However, there are some things to say about how your McD’s eating habits (and exercise routine) during the past month have affected your health, body fat and muscle mass.
Most people try to avoid eating fat – but in doing so miss out on eating essential fat (which your body cannot make but absolutely needs). You have been eating poor quality, highly refined and processed fat in the form of McDonald’s food. This type of fat is used because it is cheap and has a long shelf life, which big corporations like McD’s love as it means that they can fry another 1,000 burgers before the fat goes rancid and has to be changed.
The fat in your body is constantly being used and replaced, so the type of fat you eat is what gets incorporated into your nerve cells, muscle cells and every other cell in your body. Take out the water, and your brain is 60% fat. Your brain relies heavily on fat to function. If you eat rubbish fat, this is what gets put into your brain – no wonder you were feeling tired and lethargic and moody throughout the month! This is certainly a case of “You are what you eat!”
Fruit & veg
It’s interesting to note that you enjoyed the taste of vegetables once you could eat them again. As explained at the start, junk food is made to be addictive; that is what these multinational companies (motivated by profit, not your health) do best. They tweak their menu, adding a lettuce leaf here and there, to give the impression that they are providing healthy food, but they are not. The fact that your taste buds enjoyed the subtle flavour and texture of vegetables after a month’s onslaught of high salt/fat additive foods without much texture shows that your body does actually know what it needs.
The change in muscle and fat in your body is due the exercise regime. However, the effort you put in could have been more effective if supported by decent nutrition (as part two, The Workout, will hopefully show). There is a lot of muscular damage (wear and tear, rather than injury) during exercise. This need to be repaired in between exercise sessions and specific nutrients are involved in this process, which your month of McDonald’s meals did not supply.
Your iron – haemoglobin (Hb) – levels could be better. They are on the low side of ‘normal’. Haemoglobin is important during exercise, as it carries oxygen around your body. The more you run, the more Hb you need. Red meat is usually a good source of iron, which is needed to make Hb. The ‘meat’ you ate was not of average quality let alone the best prime steak (and so had a low iron content). The B vitamins also needed to support iron and make Hb were lacking.
Haematocrit is a measure of hydration/dehydration. Not surprisingly, due to your coffee and fizzy drink (rather than lots of plain water) intake, you were probably partially dehydrated for a month. This also isn’t good for exercise performance.
Cholesterol. Ah, another source of myth and misunderstanding. The pharmaceutical industry put a lot of effort into persuading us that we need to lower cholesterol otherwise we will die from stokes or heart attacks. This is because they have made a range of drugs which is very effective in lowering cholesterol (these drugs are statins). These make a huge amount of money for the drug companies. The reality is that, far from being harmful, cholesterol is a vital substance – we would die without it.
Cholesterol is so important that the body makes it in the liver to make sure it never runs out. The fact that it ends up clogging up arteries is NOT because of the cholesterol we eat, but the LACK of fruits and veg and TOO MUCH sugar in the diet. These damage the lining of the arteries and cholesterol is sent to plug the damage. However lots of damage (due to a crap diet), means cholesterol can block arteries and the result is a heart attack or stroke.
Poor old cholesterol gets the blame and complete drug (statin) and margarine industries (Benecol and Flora) are built on the myth that we need to reduce our cholesterol. Look at the stats: some people with high cholesterol do die from heart attacks, but so do folk with low cholesterol. Cholesterol is NOT the problem – it is the damage done to the lining of the arteries (from eating an over-processed, refined, high sugar, low vitamin, crap fat diet).”
Since The McWorkout ended a fortnight ago, I’ve trained a couple of times a week (i.e I’ve slackened off) while eating fairly healthily. I’ve also eaten chocolate, drank beer and generally lived like a normal human being. As such, my fitness levels are comparable to how they were two weeks ago – I haven’t made any mad gains since completing The McWorkout. The hard work starts all over again today.
Here’s my starting weight and body fat, which will be retested each Monday:
Two weeks ago (at the end of The McWorkout) I weighed 72kg. That’s right: since I stopped eating McDonald’s, I’ve put on 1.4 kilos. 😕 However, my body fat is fractionally lower than the 11% it was recorded at a fortnight ago, so at least some of that weight must be muscle 😎
My goal is to see how fit I can get in one month of eating clean and training dirty. Muscle built; fat lost; personal bests bested. All the usual stuff.
- Body fat < 10%
- 10k ran in < 40 minutes
The latter will be particularly tough, but I’ll give it my best shot.
My training schedule will involve:
- Gym: Lots of free weights, resistance machines, TRX and other gear
- Cardio: Running, rowing machine, interval training
- Home workouts: I’ll be using Adrian James fitness apps to perform 15-minute bodyweight routines.
The last word on The McWorkout
I’ve been getting a hard-on for bonus features today so I’ma leave you with a final dropdown menu: the best bits from The McWorkout. If you’re looking to defer work for another ten minutes, it’ll suitably distract you. Enjoy the highlight reel that follows and I’ll see you back here next Monday for Part II of The Workout.
The Best of The McWorkout
Can’t be bothered reading over the 12-part McWorkout? OK you lazy peasant, have the best bits in one compendium.
Over the next month I’m going to get into the best shape of my life. Pounding tarmac. Pumping iron. Performing crunches. I’m going to train like I’ve never trained before.
There’s just one catch…
During my quest, I’m going to be fuelled by one thing and one thing only: McDonald’s fast food.
I aim to show that anyone – even with limited access to good food or a proper kitchen – can get into shape.
It’s not poverty that makes you fat. It’s not insidious fast food adverts. It’s you.
The worst thing about going to the gym is it makes you feel guilty about all the crap you’re eating. Then you’re left with two choices: get on that fitness train and ride it for life or accept defeat and sink further into the sofa.
What if it didn’t have to be that way? What if there was a way to get fit without cutting fast food? What if there was a way to get fit while doubling it? Quadrupling it?
Is it possible to get ripped while eating absolute crap?
I’ve probably broken a sweat four times since the start of the year – and one of those was when I reached in my pocket and couldn’t find my phone.
Ultimately it makes no difference to you whether I gain visible abs or a visible gut; you just wanna laugh at some idiot’s expense. You’ll get that, I can assure you.
If there are two things the next month is sure to be filled with, it’s pain and regrettable eating choices.
[At the end of the challenge] I’ll discover whether a month of McDonald’s has caused me to develop the testosterone level of an 8-year-boy, the oestrogen level of a 30-year-old woman and AIDS.
I’ve officially become That Guy, the douchebag whose healthy lifestyle has to impinge on everyone else’s pleasure. And the worst part? I can’t even take the moral high ground because I’m going to be eating absolute filth.
I feel like a man out on bail, enjoying the final sensory experiences – food; fucks; freedom – before his sentence begins.
If this project gets you thinking about your diet, your fitness and your relationship with fast food, that might not be a bad thing. If this project entertains you along the way, even better.
Night and day, I look out of my window at people devouring fast food. Truck drivers eat it; tradesmen eat it; schoolgirls eat it – even the seagulls eat it.
The McWorkout happened thanks to a two-syllable word, an invisible force wrapped in four letters:
That’s why The McWorkout was born: to provide me with a means of sitting in McDonald’s all day without getting fat.
As our tour of the winter gardens is nearing its conclusion, we pass the carnivorous plants. I stare intently at the venus fly trap. I think I’ve finally found a soulmate.
The sugar high from my donut has evaporated and now I’m hungry. I plot a course for my nearest wifi centre.
“Can I have a chicken and bacon salad?”
“Sorry we don’t have any left,” says the cashier.
The blue loading circle starts swirling – McDonald’s wifi is down. This is what I get for visiting a different McD’s: no salad and no wifi. I should have gone to my local.
I’ve got a bad case of the first world problems and a heap of missed deadlines. There’s only one way to fix this: with a punishing back and shoulder workout.
“I want a McDonald’s. Olaf says yes. Olaf says he wants McDonald’s. He whispered it in my ear.” She vigorously nods her stuffed toy.
“I don’t wanna encourage you to eat McDonald’s.”
She looks at me. “What does encourage mean?”
I start to explain but E interrupts. “I want a McDonald’s. I’ve ate it none times.”
5:30: I feel like I’ve been dead lifting a cement mixer.
The Chicago Supreme is described as “a delicious combo of 100% beef patty, bacon, cheese, slices of onion, spicy tomato salsa, cool mayo and shredded lettuce finished with a chilli, chive and sesame-topped bun. Nice.”
I would describe the Great Tastes of America burger as “a fiendish combo of damp scrotum, bin juice, spunky sock and soggy Kleenex. Nasty.”
Still, with its high calorie content and obligatory slice of processed cheese, it’s very American, I’ll grant them that.
Such Americlap. Very die.
Now that someone in Aberdeen is actually eating the fuckers, McDonald’s really need to get some salads ordered.
11:00: It’s only Wednesday and already this has been the longest week of my life.
In the past seven days, I’ve eaten 30 McDonald’s meals, trained six times and fapped twice. Two of those statistics are relevant to this story. The other one you really didn’t need to know.
Once upon a time I was “That guy who punts decent weed”. Then I became “That guy who wrote a blog about vagina names.” Now I’m “That guy you send your McDonald’s food porn.”
I think back to my interview with the careers advisor at 17. I’m pretty sure this wasn’t the trajectory we’d mapped out.
That’s the trouble with being a liberal dad: you say yes to everything and next thing you know you’re in charge of a horde of excitable eight-year-olds, only one of whom is yours but all of whom are now your responsibility.
A kid at the next table drops the lid of his cheeseburger on the floor and begins howling. I bite my lip.
I drive to school and pick up my daughter, once again making sure to stash the McDonald’s wrappers strewn around my car. It would be easier to conceal a smack habit.
“What would happen if I fed McDonald’s to a ladybird for a month?” The McWorkout does strange things to body and mind.
Within an hour of consuming a Bacon Roll with brown sauce, I’m back in bed. Are my energy levels plummeting or am I just getting lazier?
It’s hard to tell.
I must preserve my gains. I park up and get in line behind a pair of land whales. By my reckoning I have two hours in which to complete my work before the fast food high wears off.
I’m in such a rush I don’t even have time to stash the McDonald’s wrappers. I throw my bag over the top of them and speed off.
The M doesn’t stand for McDonald’s – it stands for Muh Gainz, which are in desperate need of some post-gym protein.
Woah, what the hell is up with the Tate? All of a sudden, the engine is sounding unhealthier than my diet.
I’m not sure what bothers me more: the death of my car or the 350 calories I just drank.
I can still save this weekend. All I have to do tomorrow is write a bunch of overdue articles, make it to the gym, vacate my office, meet Patrick, eat a bunch of junk food while meticulously recording every calorie and find a way of making it back to Aberdeen.
I can do this…r-right?
MOG asks me how the diet is going.
I think for a moment. “It’s a bit like prison. I just wanna serve my time and survive the month.”
“There’s only two meals in this place – your first and your last,” quips MOG.
Why do they call it a Quarter Pounder with Cheese when everything comes with cheese?
Alex pops into the garage to pay for fuel. He emerges chomping on a Wispa Gold. I’m pretty sure that wasn’t in The McWorkout.
I drive the Potate-two to Aberdeen with all the care that a man who may/may not have insurance can muster.
It’s 6pm but I still have to fork out £4 for parking. That’s the price you pay for picking a prime spot that’s equidistant from PureGym and McDonald’s
Monday has been a success – I even got a chance to use my home exercise equipment:
My styrofoam plate of diabeetus contains a whopping 104g of carbs, half of which is sugar. Do not want. Must eat.
They make Channel 4 documentaries about guys like me – hoarders. After going AFK for weeks, my disappearance prompts concerned neighbours to break down the door, only to find me smothered beneath 20 years of McDonald’s wrappers. Little do they know it was just a fortnight’s supply.
12:40pm: The McDonald’s queue is huge and everyone around me is fat.
My car is full of McDonald’s wrappers. My life is a mess.
“I told C in my class that you lost weight from eating McDonald’s and now he’s asked his parents if he can eat McDonald’s all month!”
Jesus Christ. What have I started?
My blood results may be reassuringly normal, but there is nothing reassuring about the notes appended to the top of page two:
I’m skint, overworked, haven’t made the gym and now the home page of my website’s gone full potato. Wednesday is turning to shit.
“That was a fucking massive tick by the way.”
“Yeah, no doubt,” I mutter in between mouthfuls.
“It’s not often you see them that size,” she continues. “Here, take a look…”
I put down my burger and wait for her iPhone to be thrust in my face, but oh no. She doesn’t have a photograph for me: she has the actual fucking tick.
Google Maps is a lying whore and I can’t get through to the country house hotel whose 0.9 miles have turned out to be as the crow flies, rather than as the boy jogs around the perimeter of Prestwick Airport.
Now I’m walking past cow barns, my feet soaked from splashing through invisible puddles on lanes where street lights are but a dream.
All I want is to sleep in my own bed and to wake up next to McDonald’s.
I don’t even know what The McWorkout is any more. It started out as a fast food fitness challenge. Now it seems to have turned into Around Scotland In 80 Days.
Every McDonald’s employs a foreign or mildly autistic cleaner whose job is to mop the same patch of floor constantly.
I flick through a copy of Men’s Health, which contains a body transformation feature. These guys are getting professional trainers, specially devised circuits, nutritionally balanced meal plans, supplements and ten weeks in which to get into shape. I’m trying to do it in four weeks, with no workout partner, no professional trainer, no supplements and a meal plan that consists of non-stop McDonald’s. Have I bitten off more junk food than I can chew?
“Pure dead brilliant” reads the Prestwick Airport slogan. All that’s missing is a ‘but’ on the end. Prestwick is many things (awash with cellulite slappers and pot-bellied Weegies) but it’s certainly not pure dead brilliant, but.
“Dude, give me a shout if anyone comes,” he orders, ducking down behind the bar.
I keep watch while my companion ransacks the fridge.
“How many beers?” comes the muffled voice from behind the bar.
Right now, I couldn’t care less about Barcelona’s cultural attractions: I need fast food and I need it fast.
Scorched grass fringes the narrow road around the airport. The air is redolent of clover and heroin. I glance up at the stars, moon and vapour trails.
“It’s all about the music and it always will be!” exclaims the tune pulsing through my iPod at 140bpm.
Six weeks ago, the McWorkout was a daft idea running around my head. Now I’m running around Barcelona airport. How did it come to this?
“That garlic bread we had earlier in the airport was delicious. It was like a moist fanny, but better.”
My reward for visiting the gastronomic heartland of Catalonia is the worst paella I’ve ever tasted. It takes an hour to arrive and is welded to the pan. What’s the point of cheating if you can’t even enjoy it?
Hotel breakfasts are served way too early – who the hell is up at that time apart from old people and Asians?
During my 48 hours in Catalonia, I’ve seen zero attractions, gotten drunk zero times and have eaten zero McDonald’s. On the plus side, I’ve fitted in two gym sessions, a 10k run and a bunch of work.
If I manage to get into shape this month, the miracle won’t be that it was achieved while eating McDonald’s – it’ll be that I managed it while leading a life as chaotic as mine.
Today I’ve drank, smoked, eaten two Jaffa cakes and verbally agreed to eat a Scotch pie in a Big Mac.
I look around the restaurant at the ham planets, neds, convicts and sex offenders and vow that if I were ever to lay waste to humanity, McDonald’s Union Street is where my Bateman rampage would begin.
When you’ve begun lying to your kids about your McDonald’s habit, it’s probably time to face facts: you’re an addict.
Officially, The McWorkout ends on 25th May, but what if I can’t stop? What if I become hooked on McDonald’s, the exercise slows down and I turn into a ham beast?
Oh the irony.
Every guy is in better shape than me, has better hair or has a qt 3.14 gf in tow.
Despite my poverty, I’ve still managed to eat McDonald’s three times today; it’s not the cheat meal I’m sorry for – it’s my life.
As I glance around at the land whales devouring their super-size meals, a jolt of fear pulses through me. I feel like a scientist armed with a geiger counter and sent in to Chernobyl. Will I emerge from this challenge sporting two heads and six stomachs?
Everyone seems averse to exercise round here: even the window cleaner does his job sitting down. How much McDonald’s can I absorb before I turn into one of them?
14:00: I return for a coffee and a Skype. An oompa loompa with eyebrows drawn like thunder clouds is sat at the table. Every time she bites into her Big Mac, her orange chin wobbles, one roll at a time.
16th April, 16:30: HB mum, dad and kid who looks like he was breastfed McFlurries. In fact he was probably conceived inside McDonald’s while mum was screaming for dad to super-size her cervix. I bet her vagoo smells of chip fat and bad life choices. That poor kid doesn’t stand a chance. Still, that doesn’t stop him from tucking into his fries like they’re the last carbs on earth.
Without fitness, The McWorkout is just a guy eating a bunch of fast food.
I completed three weeks of The McWorkout without taking my kids to McDonald’s; I think today’s breakfast is allowed. Besides, my daughter has 7% body fat – she can eat whatever the hell she wants.
In theory, all those gym bros lugging dumbbells could kick my ass. In practice, I’d outrun every last one of them. If only respectable cardio times could impress grills 🙁
15:30: “I can judge your moods by how quick you are to shout at the cat,” says my mate.
You know those yappy little dogs that won’t stop barking until you dropkick them over the neighbour’s fence? My mate owns the feline equivalent of one of them.
I like cats, but I’d strangle hers in a heartbeat.
After paying, I realise that I haven’t requested side salad and so, for the second time today, I’ll be eating fries. Fuck sake – my 5k was for nothing.
Oh well, that’s what The McWorkout is all about, isn’t it? Making gains and then stifling them in junk food. I’m not lovin’ it, but I’m certainly doinitrite.
An annoying group of drunk people are cutting into a birthday cake. I could eat the fuck out of a birthday cake right now.
Just one more sweet treat to go and I’ll have completed the dessert menu, whereupon my latest achievement will be unlocked: Diabeetus.
Stressed workers are squabbling, tubby kids are fighting, cooking alarms beeping, customers grumbling and fatties fattening. There’s been some good times, McDonald’s, but I’ll be glad to see the back of you.
7km in and a fly lands in my eye. Not one of those tiny muthafuckas either, but a proper meaty bitch. I don’t have time to stop and fish it out – excuse me, I’m trying to beat my 10k here – so I wince and carry that fucker for 3k while it floats about in my retina.
1pm: It’s rush hour in McDonald’s Union Street and the freaks are out in force. Midgets, lard-asses and single mums (aka lard-asses) compete for floor space with a man on a mobility scooter which turns into a lorry and beeps when placed in reverse.
I feel like a housing estate mum nominated to make the fast food run. I feel bad man.
I’ve been to three different McDonald’s and two gyms today. The spirit of The McWorkout is very much alive.
Choosing your favourite McDonald’s burger is like choosing whether you’d like to be gassed or strangled.
“B-but you were thin to start with.”
Yeah, and I worked my ass off to keep those carbs at bay as well as putting on muscle. If I’d tried this hard as a fatty, I’d have lost a heap of weight. Spoiler: Exercise hurts just as much when you’re skinny.