Tag: AI

One year on Zepbound, 100+ pounds down, and still waiting for the real transformation to begin

It’s been a long time since I’ve posted on the Marks Other Things Blog, so let’s get the headline out of the way:

This week marks one year of having been on Mounjaro/Zepbound.

The scale this afternoon when I finally rolled out of bed registered 263 pounds. I’ve lost 114 pounds in the past 12 months. I should be thrilled. Euphoric. Climbing stairs two at a time and tossing my 5x sweat pants into the Rio ‘not-a-river’ Grande like a midshipman on graduation day. And yet there’s this quiet, persistent feeling like I’m lying to you and myself.

Because here’s what it took to drop that weight:

And worst of all, a metric ton of sitting.

I haven’t touched the treadmill. Can’t remember the last time I strapped on the lymphedema pump. Most of the movement in my life has been between the fridge, the bathroom, and whatever project I’ve started but not finished. Every week or so, there’s been a new idea, a new plan, a new Amazon order. But the checkboxes never get checked.

False Starts and the Illusion of Momentum

There’s always something going on. The gears are always turning. There was the Great Window AC Unit Upgrade of 2025. And there was the home network overhaul that began with “If Your Router Is old, upgrade IT now!” *Actual quote from work’s CyberSec Group’s slide deck.  

None of it’s done. Not really.

AC units are humming, but there’s an awful lot of daylight between them and the window frames. And that supersecure fully documented subnet leveraged IOT corralled network on a budget? Somehow it stalled after three days comparing mesh routers and 300 quatloos on the Visa Card.

But it makes me feel like I’m moving.

Same story with the OneNote rabbit hole. I need a laser pointer aimed at the finish lines of getting healthy, getting a clean house and getting the wheels back on my career. I googled and asked ChatGPT for help and found Tiago Forte’s ‘Building a Second Brain’. I went all in: paid for the hardcopy, the digital copy, the audio book and subscribed to the podcast. I told myself that a second brain would be my digital fortress of order and structured clarity.

The reality? Another half-built playset of tabbed pages, ADHD checklists, and idea jams. Hours agonizing over tab colors and font sizes. All dressed up like progress. All of it just another box of Legos and G.I. Joes that I pull out when the hard parts tap, knock or bang on the door.

The AI Addiction and the Self-Help Trap

Let’s talk about the prompting.

It usually starts with something innocuous: “I just bought this hideously expensive German tool set that the internet says is the most popular for everyday carry. What tools would a Stuka mechanic have carried at a Pyrenees FOB in 1943?” *Actual initial prompt.

Six hours, 5 diet cokes and 10504 AI tokens, (yes, I did the math) later, I’m an expert on German hand tools; the state of independent garages and DIY automobile repair in Germany, the US and India; and why modern Craftsman tools and new BMWs suck. Nothing to do with work. Nothing to do with health. Just another wormhole I chase while the treadmill gathers dust and the medication does all the heavy lifting.

I tell myself I’m training for the next phase of my career. Building neural muscle to become (cue the horn flourish) “THE GUY AT THE CENTER OF THE AI/CYBERSECURITY/M365 VENN DIAGRAM”. *Actual quote from my last corporate self-assessment.

But maybe, just maybe, this is my new bag of Reese’s Cups. A new flavor of less than healthy distraction, a different shade of self-delusion. Another salve that keeps me from dealing with the stuff that isn’t fixed with mouse clicks and a ChatGPT Plus subscription.

The Needle Isn’t the Whole Story

I am proud of the weight loss. Truly. But it feels incomplete: Lego bricks are on the Lego baseplate, but the other 490 pieces are spread out on the floor and the box is definitely nowhere near a trashcan. The body is smaller. The life… not so much.

I built my second brain to keep me honest. To wrangle the clutter, physical and mental, into at least piles. To help me finish more than I start. And yet even the system that was supposed to organize my chaos has become another unfinished project. One more project checklist on the stack, buried underneath another all-in-one screwdriver and a half dozen empty diet coke cans.

But maybe calling it out is the first real step.

So, no tidy bow on this one. No triumphant montage. Just a man staring bleakly at the why-is-it-still-too-hot workout room + the piles of tools, ethernet cables, and empty amazon boxes + the digital junk drawer he swears is a productivity tool.

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A Call To Action (Kind Of)

If you’ve been where I am—or are where I am—leave a comment. Share your rabbit hole. Your almost-project. Or just nod, quietly, and open your own second brain. I’ll be over here trying to remember which OneDrive folder holds mine.

_{Created with the assistance of Bob, my ChatGPT writing companion who may be both enabler and confessor in this saga of self-help, dusty treadmills, and AI-powered avoidance.}.