Week 18: 180 pounds

...but I feel much fatter than that. In fact, I put on a shirt that used to fit me pretty well after my previous 50 pound weight loss, and it was tight. I looked back a few posts ago when I was saying something about feeling thinner despite the number on the scale, but that certainly is not today. And surely not right at this moment. Let me explain...

This morning I was a bit more rushed than I usually allow myself to be, and as such I didn't have my usual bowl of cereal. No biggie, I told myself, I'll just pick something up on the way in to work. I stopped at Burger King for a croisanwich (good LORD those things are good!), and a diet coke. The kind lady at the window accidentally put two in the bag (I checked the receipt; one was "free"), and I told myself I wasn't going to eat the second one, since I wasn't planning on eating two anyway and who in the world needs two of them? So, after I finished the second one, I was berating myself for being so weak in the face of temptation, and bracing myself for the inevitable discomfort that comes from eating so much grease-laden, fat-injected paradise. I knew I would feel miserable, and now, I do. So, I decided to come here and share it. I got my money's worth, that's for sure!

So, having skipped a week in posting here, and having no good news to share, and basically wallowing in regret, this all should be a nice awakening for me. I hope so.

Week 16: 180 pounds

...And I am only kind of surprised it is that low! I was away for the weekend at a workshop where they fed us so well, in portions so large, it was not uncommon for all of us to push ourselves away from the table with the same "post-Thanksgiving groan," and proclaim to ourselves and each other that we won't eat the next meal like that.

And then, after several more hours of workshops and a renewed hunger, we were all back in the dining hall, repeating the process. Between meals, there were copious amounts of snacks, goodies, and various temptations all laid out, all free, and all begging to be consumed. I did my part. I am still detoxing from the food experience.

Tons of eating, coupled with tons of sitting around, results in gained weight. Who'd of thunk it?

Week 15: 178 lbs

Ok, so that whole "do it for 14 days to become a habit" thing must be true, because I haven't, and it isn't.

But I am far more active than I have been lately, and to my thinking "active" is almost as good as "exercising," right? I mean, it's better than the butt-shaped indentation on my couch deepening. And I am constantly aware of my activity level, and trying to keep it up. When given the choice of the closest parking spot, or the elevator, I park farther away and take the stairs. Small things, I know, but things.

I took a walk around the U of M campus yesterday, because the weather was so nice and I was there anyway. It was great. I was on my feet for the majority of time between 10:30 am and 8:30 pm, walking and carrying stuff, or standing. Not cardio, but at least calorie-burning. And I was very tired afterward, so I call that a victory.

The thing is, I feel thinner, in that my pants are looser, my shirts hang better, and I am able to move up another notch in my belt. To hell with the scale, I'm getting thinner!

Week 14: 178 pounds

Spring break was last week, thus the lack of posting. In fact, a general lack of doing anything. I can't afford to do much right now anyway, so I just stayed around home and hung out.

Conveniently enough, home is where my exercise equipment is, so I devoted time every day of spring break to working out. I missed one day, but I'm still doing much better than any of my previous efforts. I was pretty proud of myself for seeing it through despite my desire to just sit around, and I have to admit I felt better after each workout.

So what the Hell is up with my weight? One pound?? ONE lousy pound!? I didn't change my diet at all from my already fairly meager meals, and I stepped up the physical contribution. Perhaps, it is that whole "muscle weighs more than fat" thing, but it's not like I'm bulking up!

Whatever. I guess at least I am still heading in the right direction. They say you have to do a thing for 14 days in a row for it to become a habit. I'm working on it...

Week 12: 179 pounds

I'm out of the 180's, which is nice! And I'm out of sync with my dates too. Since my last post was on a Friday instead of a Monday, and today is Wednesday, it's just the way it'll have to be. But I wanted to be able to post something in the 170's, and I can, so I did, and there you go.

Week 11: 180 pounds

Math is not my strong suit, but I know the "week" number keeps going up, and the "pounds" number is staying the same. (Yes, I also see the gap in dates, no need to go there...)

But now that it is getting nice outside, the inevitable truth that I knew already is before me: I wish I had done it back when I started it. That said, I am proud to report that I am once again off the couch and onto the treadmill. I am a little sore, but it is that familiar, good kind of sore.

I reflected a bit on motivation in general, and determined the short-range problem for me, which I have to think is universal: No immediate results.

It's not like going to the barber with long hair, and emerging with shorter hair and a different look. Or a trip to the eyeglasses store to get different frames. Or even a shopping spree for new clothes. The hard fact is that I take a flabby body to the machines, abuse it for a bit, and leave with the same flabby body, now sore and sweaty. No fun, no results, why keep going?

But that's the key in all this. Persistance above all else. It's not freakin' rocket science, but I guess I needed to take a look at the fact that 11 weeks of my life are gone, and I have nothing to show for it. If only I had listened to myself back then, I would be in a better place today.

The kind of change I am going for is not going to just happen because I wish it to, or because I put forth a half-ass effort. And I can make all the excuses for my lack of advancement that I want to, but it doesn't matter. I know better. Now I have to prove it.

And not to you, whoever is reading this. To me. I already know all the self-defeating demotivators that lounge about in my head, and I have to battle them.

Week 8: 180 pounds

Yeah, I know, "What happened to week 7?" With the Monday holiday, my routine was all off and I didn't post. Not like I had any huge progress to report anyway!! So, kinda like my dieting effort, I just put it off.

Here I am, still, the same weight. Eight weeks have passed, and I have nothing to show for it. Had I just sucked it up for those eight weeks, where would I be now? Rhetorical, don't answer...

I know where I'd be, and that's the bugger of it all! If a guy can safely lose 2 pounds a week, I'd be at 164 pounds right now. There's still snow on the ground, and starting from 164 now until spring arrives would be awesome! And I know I could lose more than 2 pounds per week, and would for sure on some weeks, others not so much, but still, I'd be able to safely say "Week 8: 165 pounds".

OK, a crossroads: This revelation could take one of two tacks, the way I see it. The first is that I just get sad, give up, and resolve myself to a life of chubbiness which is not what I want. The second is that I get mad, find motivation, and start here and now with a fresh resolve to do it!

But as I search myself, neither of those two options have a louder voice. I mean, I'm not giving up but I'm not motivated either. I'm not fat, I'm chubby. I don't like it, but I don't hate it. Well, OK I guess I more hate it than like it, but I have spent 43 years toting around extra weight, and I guess I am just used to it.

So this post is not meant as a trumpet fanfare announcing another start, nor is it a withdrawal from the fight.

I'll get back to you.