Chubster: A Hipster's Guide to Losing Weight While Staying Cool

Chubster: A Hipster's Guide to Losing Weight While Staying Cool

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ARE YOUR SKINNY JEANS STARTING TO FEEL A LITTLE SNUG? You don’t have the right clothes for the gym. You don’t do protein powders, wonder berries, or green tea. The idea of going without beer makes you weak in the knees. But there’s no denying you are one. fat. hipster. Lucky for you, Martin Cizmar has come up with the least awful diet plan of all time. The Chubster way. It revolves around calorie counting (deal with it) and enjoyable undercover exercise (urban hiking and gum chewing). Martin gives you the tools to become a self-sufficient weight-loss machine capable of functioning in any environment. From frozen dinners and drive-through menus, ethnic eating to microbrews, he’ll point you to the responsible choice, steer you clear of the real diet killers, and dispel some of the myths giving you that tire around your waist. Like: That Stella you’re holding? It has more calories than Guinness. Dieting is never fun, but with Chubster, weight loss doesn’t have to cramp your style.

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  • Format: eBook

  • ISBN-13/EAN: 9780547559353

  • ISBN-10: 0547559356

  • Pages: 240

  • Price: $9.99

  • Publication Date: 01/03/2012

  • Carton Quantity: 1

Martin Cizmar

Martin Cizmar

Martin Cizmar lost 100 pounds in eight months on the Chubster diet. He's worked at the Akron Beacon Journal and Phoenix New Times, where he was the music critic. He currently lives in Portland, Oregon, where he works as an editor at Willamette Week. In his spare time, he enjoys hiking, longboarding, and riding around town on the vintage beach cruiser he bought at a thrift store. He considers barbecue and craft beer his cruelest temptations. This is his first book.
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  • reviews

    "[Cizmar] encourages you to take a hard look at yourself -- and why you've gained or can't lose weight -- at the same time as he scrutinizes himself. Reading the book feels like entering into a fitness pact with a friend, not at all like the miserable time I signed myself up for a personal trainer at Bally's who made me cry three times a week . . . The book is endlessly useful in a variety of ways." -- Houston Press


    "Science-based and infused with 'snarky jokes,' Cizmar’s plan will particularly appeal to 'hipsters' seeking a nongimmicky, foolproof way to slim down while enjoying some laughs." -- Publishers Weekly


    "A well-researched, serious book about how to lose weight that will appeal to folks not interested in joining in the 'Organized Dieting' movement." -- Santa Barbara Independent


    "Full of lively writing and sound advice." -- Oregonian

  • excerpts

    The word chubster—while universally accepted as a delightful that it has to have some

    meaning — is fairly amorphous. Actually,, the definitive source

    of information on made-up words, offers quite a few definitions,

    two variants of which are interesting to us:



     An overweight person who considers himself to be a hipster.

     Someone who is proud to be a fatty mcfatfat . . . They

     wear Old Navy jeans because they can’t fit into anything

     from Urban Outfitters or from trendy thrift shops. They

     try to squeeze themselves into small hoodies and H&M

     T-shirts because slim fitting clothes look “dope” on them.

     They avoid being an outcast loser because they are seen as

     cool and desirable due to a magnetic personality and funny

     jokes that compensate for their perceived lack of physical


     Celebrity examples of Chubsters: Jonah Hill, Zach Galifianakis,

     Seth Rogan

     Fawn: Ugh! Look at that chick with the muffin top and those

    Charlotte Russe flats.

     Ruby: . . . and you know she got that Run DMC T-shirt from


     Fawn: Oh em eff jeez, she’s such a chubster.



     Someone who used to be chubby when they were a kid,

     but became very in-shape, muscular, and attractive. It’s

     almost like being a chubster is a compliment, because most

     of them are very nice, they know what it’s like to be the fat

     kid who’s everyone’s friend, no more (girls didn’t think of

     him that way), so most chubsters don’t judge. He’s the guy

     who everyone likes, but how could you not like a chubster?

     Funny, nice, and able to relate to almost everyone? They’re

     one of a kind.

    Bob: Dude, this new kid came to our class, he showed us his

    yearbook and he was like majorly chubby two years ago.

     Sally: But not anymore. That new kid’s cute, that chubster.

      For much of my life, I’ve been a Chubster1. Certainly, I

    was not seriously ashamed of my weight, and I was kindasorta

    proud of my indulgence. At the same time, I was always

    trying to fit in with my usually-skinny hipster friends — not

    always easy for a big guy. Now I’m working on becoming a

    Chubster2: the cool, formerly fat guy. Actually, in calling this

    book Chubster, I’m hoping to carve that definition into a metaphorical

    stone tablet. Not that I’m always a nice guy — as

    you’ll undoubtedly see throughout the book, I’ve never been

    the sweet and beloved tuba-playing fat kid — but I’m trying.

    I’m trying, folks. In the meantime, I’m doing what I’ve always

    done, which is keep it real. That means giving you some cold,

    hard, and unpleasant facts. I’m going to do that in the nicest

    and most efficient way possible because I’ve been in your

    shoes. I’m now an average weight, but luckily I still have

    some of that renowned empathy that makes fat people beloved

    the world over.

      The fact of the matter is, there’s nothing wrong with

    being fat. Or, at least there’s nothing wrong with you because

    you’re fat. That’s the truth, and anyone who tells you

    differently is an asshole. Sure, I lost 100 pounds in eight

    months for the express purpose of not being fat (I’m 5'11"

    and weighed 290 when I started). Still, I don’t see anything

    wrong with being overweight, per se. It’s not a character

    flaw. Being fat is pretty fun, actually. I had a great run. I ate

    creamy, fried, and sickeningly sweet foods so delicious, most

    of my thin friends could never imagine consuming them. I

    imbibed mass quantities of the world’s most delicious beers

    without a second thought — never did anything less caloric

    than Blue Moon touch my lips. I sat around playing video

    games, watching football, and listening to records on lazy

    Sundays. Despite my girth, I had no trouble getting a little

    action from attractive girls (my girlfriend is 5'10", a size 6,

    and gorgeous), which is the major impediment faced by the

    overweight among us.

      Honestly, it was great. Sure, I was a little ashamed at the

    pool, but not enough to change anything. And there was

    that one time I could not fit inside a roller coaster. Only

    the Insane Clown Posse seemed to sell concert T-shirts

    that fit me. And I hurriedly untagged almost every photo

    of me posted on Facebook. But that was my life and I was

    enjoying it.

      But “happily fat” is not a sustainable lifestyle. Facing

    my twenty-ninth birthday, I had to accept that. It was a

    cherry Slurpee and my girlfriend, Kirsten, which made me

    see this. It’s sort of a weird story, actually. We were headed

    home from a Dave Matthews Band concert — part of my job

    is to go to such concerts and explain to the primitive hordes

    why they suck — when I stopped for a refreshing, sugary

    beverage to quench my thirst and propel me through the

    late-night writing process required to meet my 9 a.m. deadline.

    I got the largest size and sucked down the whole thing

    without a second thought. Kirsten, a nurse who works with

    liver patients, some of the least-well humans on earth, was

    horrified. We’d talked about my weight before, but never

    very seriously.

      I could tell immediately this conversation was going to be



    DRANK?” she asked. I guessed around 300 — it’s mostly ice,

    right? When we looked it up (a ritual I would become all too

    familiar with in the coming months), it was more like 600.

    Some 600 calories for a bedtime snack! It was a lot, but still,

    I didn’t see the big deal. Maybe a Slurpee was a bad choice, I

    said, but I need to drink something to write. How am I supposed

    to write with a dry mouth and tired eyes? Diet Coke,

    she suggested. Ick, I said. No, she said, this is serious.

      The health thing, obviously, was a big concern. But the

    probable consequences — to be outlined shortly — also felt far

    into the future. There was a more pressing issue: In a few

    months, I would be meeting her health-nut parents for the

    first time in New Zealand. Kirsten’s dad is a college professor

    who studies pharmaceuticals, and her mom knows everyone

    in her town’s co-op grocery store by name and does nearly as

    much yoga as Gandhi — in other words, they’ve been granola

    since before it was cool. I knew Kirsten was right. There

    was little chance I could plan to be indefinitely overweight

    and keep that little pink heart on my Facebook relationship

    status intact. For me, it wasn’t so much an ultimatum as a


      And thus began the transformation. A hundred pounds. A

    snug 44 to a loose 34. A loose 3XL to a snug M. Some people

    might prefer I say I dropped the weight with the help of

    Whole Foods, reusable BPA-free water bottles, and an elliptical,

    but the truth is, I didn’t. I changed my habits so little

    that I might think it was pathetic — a sign that I’m pitifully

    stuck in my ways — if it weren’t for how inspiring the story

    seems to be to other people.


Available Resources

Related Categories

  • Format: eBook

  • ISBN-13/EAN: 9780547559353

  • ISBN-10: 0547559356

  • Pages: 240

  • Price: $9.99

  • Publication Date: 01/03/2012

  • Carton Quantity: 1

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