A Week of Weight Loss Whiplash

Dearest Rachel –

Not that I’m anywhere close to my goal, but I figure I might as well fill you in on how things are going with regard to my attempts to get myself in shape. I feel a little apologetic about never making a point of doing this when you were around, but it’s not as if I had to in order to please you, after all. You never pushed me to do anything about it; partly because any efforts to adjust my diet would have meant changing our cooking and dining out habits, but possibly also because making me clean up my act would have implied that you might have to work on your own issues, and I don’t think either of us were willing or able to go through all of that.

Of course, now that I have to figure out how to get Megumi’s attention (assuming she even exists), I’ve no choice but to work on this figure of mine, if for no one’s sake but hers.

Well… I do have a choice. I could simply throw up my hands and say “forget it,” assume that there is no Megumi, let myself go and indulge in whatever (and however much) I want to eat, and I’d presumably be with you that much sooner.

Really, when it’s put that way, it sounds like a win-win proposition.

But I’ll be honest; the many things that are a part of my desire to share the rest of my life with another person (and let’s face it, the sex drive in particular) is a powerful thing. There’s this thought process that tells me that, if I go lighter on one indulgence, I might just be able to enjoy the other again. And since I like both, it’s better to have a little more of both on occasion than just one for the rest of my life, however long it might be.

I think that whatever part of my brain is telling me this (maybe the part my unconscious refers to as ‘Supes’?) is trying to pull a con job on me, but I’m willing to listen for now. If nothing else, the fact that the process seems to be getting results is, if not incentive enough, at least a means to encourage me along the path for now.

A fair amount of the credit (or blame; I’m still trying to parse all of that) goes to Lars. He knew that I was very much a numbers-and-data guy (which, given my profession, rather stands to reason), and recommended when we started meeting regularly to walk through this or that forest preserve in the area, that I weigh myself on a regular basis, and keep track of where I am and where I’m going. Nothing too fancy; just something to monitor my progress, such as it was and is.

I’ll leave it to you, honey: do you think this was ‘too fancy’ on my part?

If you ask me, I’d say that the thing that makes it so overdone is the fact that, since the middle of last summer, when all of this started, there’s been a lot of data points for me to track; I may be weighing myself a bit too often. Mom says I really should only bother weighing myself one or twice a week; and since she was a nurse in a past life, she ought to know, I suppose. And her wisdom is borne out when you drill down into just since the beginning of the year:

Notice how, for the most part, it’s been pretty steady for the first month or so; in fact, there’s this period in the middle of the time period where for over two weeks, it didn’t vary by more than half a pound on either side of 260. And then, just this past week, it’s gone crazy, bouncing up and down enough to give someone whiplash. What gives?

Well, for starters – and you should be able to tell from the odd mention or two lately – I’ve finally broken down and started showing up at the gym for an hour or so of what most of the others there would probably consider a light workout. The thing is, this also means that I’m not only weighing myself every single day first thing in the morning, I’m also weighing myself when I get home and take a shower from my exertions (as I’m still not comfortable doing so in a public place, no matter how few guys are there in the locker room at the times I show up). So you can see these notches cut into the line as it trends downward; those are the moments when I’m at my lowest ebb, right after working out, and before eating anything for the day (yes, I don’t bother to eat on those days I plan to go to the gym; I’m not sure if that’s the best course of action, but there you go).

Naturally, by the next morning (more like after finally having eaten the night before), I’m back up a bit, but – and here’s the thing – I’m still lower than I was the previous morning. It’s just the fact that I’m measuring my weight at multiple times in a given days that it whipsaws down and up from one point to the next.

It’s a dizzying thing to watch, but so far, it’s still progress; I’ve finally broken through that stubborn 260 barrier. I’ll probably not reach my goal weight by the time Daniel and I leave on our next trip, but at this rate, I should be solidly below the next barrier of 250 pounds by then.

So keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck. I think I’m still gonna need it.