I Can Only Be ‘Good’ for So Long

Dearest Rachel –

Since I can’t quite tell you a success story about my drawn-out battle with weight loss – at least, not until I can prove to myself that I’ve attained a measure of lasting success – allow me to regale you with… well, would it count as a failure story? It’s not all that awful, as I’m basically right back where I started, but that’s kind of the point; all the effort and willpower expended yesterday was completely wiped out in a few moments of indulgence.

I began the day a pound and a half below the limit I’ve been trying to break through and maintain for the past couple of months. Not bad, but I’ve seen how my weight can yo-yo back and forth on either side of that line for much of that time. At this point, while I’m close to the point where I might be able to declare a certain measure of victory, there’s the knowledge that I have yet to stay below that level consistently for even such a short time as a week. Not to mention, a pound and a half can be easily eaten away and then some, as you’ll see soon enough. So, while this could be considered a positive sign, it would still be no more that a tenuous foothold in the proverbial Battle of the Bulge.

One of the key strategies in this battle is to keep myself distracted from the need or desire for food. To be honest, I wasn’t really even thinking about that yesterday morning; I was just working on trying to get my computer to draw what I was thinking of for a shirt design (I seem to have, rather inadvertently, opened up my own design studio at that one T-shirt company we used to order from every so often. This could be a story in and of itself, so I’ll wait until I have a few designs assembled before telling you the details. You’ve seen one already, but I’ve got a bunch more I want to put together, if I can get the computer to cooperate, since I can’t draw). It took nearly a hundred iterations before I got something that kind of looked like what I had in mind. By then, I was running nearly an hour late for when I usually like to get to the ‘office,’ so I ran out without even so much as bothering with breakfast. Considering we were out of milk, so cereal was literally off the table, that was probably fine.

After a half-day of what really felt like actual work for a change, including assembling a few spreadsheets and answering questions from the auditors as well as doing some thorough touch-ups to the image I’d finally settled on, I decided to check out and head to the fitness center. This would be my first workout since I did… whatever it was to my calf muscle, but after walking with Lars the day before with no noticeable ill effects, I foresaw no particular issues.

And indeed, none were had… at least, personally. The equipment room itself, on the other hand, was apparently suffering from a lack of air conditioning; the door was propped open, a notice was on the opposite door, and there were a lot more fans in there than usual. I consoled myself in the notion that I was likely going to work up that much more of a sweat than usual, which would probably be considered a good thing, as long as I remembered to stay hydrated throughout the process. Unlike Lars, I don’t like to drink while I’m exercising – you’ll recall my distaste for carrying a water bottle like you did and Daniel still does, because I cannot abide room-temperature water – but I’m more than willing to use the water fountain between each of my routines. Still, it was likely that some of what I would be dropping in that hour or so of cardio would be nothing more than water weight.

Still, I was shocked when I got home and stood on the scale after getting out of the shower. Not only had I lost several pounds since morning, but I was actually under the next five-pound barrier for the first time in who knows how long. This was more than a foothold on getting under the 250-pound barrier; this was a beachhead I’d established.

But here’s the thing; it turns out, I can only be ‘good’ for so long.

Part of the problem is that this week’s VBS sessions, from rehearsal to closeup, run from five to about eight-thirty. Ideally, I shouldn’t eat anything after nine o’clock at night. Eating too much, too late is a recipe for putting on the pounds; it’s how sumo wrestlers are made. Well, I should qualify that… real sumo wrestlers also go through a fair amount of rigorous training; I shouldn’t discount what they have to endure to reach the pinnacle of their sport. But as long as I’m using a word like ‘discount,’ let me just say that there are plenty among the ‘people of Walmart’ with the sumo physique, and none of the skill. I don’t want to count myself among them. So any activity that leads to that look, I really need to avoid.

So the ideal course of action is to have a meal before heading out to serve at church (but not just before – I’d need time to order and consume it before driving off) I invited Daniel to join me in picking up a bowl at a local teriyaki place – he didn’t remember having been there, which probably means that you never saw the place, but I know I’d picked stuff up at some point when Jan and I were working on the house – and we got a filling meal to eat together as we watched a video or two to kill the time. I even discovered – since I’d ordered a large bowl – that I didn’t need (or really, want) to eat the whole thing right then, and put the leftovers in the fridge. Daniel actually praised my restraint, even as he demolished his own large bowl (to be sure, he hadn’t eaten all day, either).

Theoretically, if I was hungry at the end of the session last night, I could simply polish off the rest of the bowl that I had planned to eat beforehand, and consider myself good for the rest of the day. I’d essentially already budgeted those calories into my day; it would just be a matter of timing. And while consuming them that late wouldn’t be ideal, it was the best I could do in a less-than-ideal situation.

But that’s not what happened.

You and I used to talk about ‘jonesing’ for something every now and then. Some day, I’m going to have to look up where that term came from and how it got into our vocabulary; it’s not all that far removed from a term like craving, but there’s something else behind it that I can’t my finger on. Anyway, as I pulled out of the church parking lot, I was jonesing for, of all things, a McDonald’s hamburger. Not one of those big entrée-sized sandwiches, mind you, just the regular, dollar-menu (well, it used to be a dollar menu item) snack that was, once upon a time, their stock in trade. Now that I’m writing this, I’m guessing this may be part of why we Americans are typically looked at as fat to the rest of the world (and let’s be honest, we are, by almost any objective standard, save for those sumo wrestlers) – what I just referred to as a snack used to be considered a full entrée.

Anyway, you can see where this is going. There’s a Mickey D’s on the otherwise short drive home, the sandwich is cheap and filling… I got one, and a chicken sandwich. It’s been a long time, I was hungry after all those hours at church, I’d put in my time at the gym, I was in no danger of crossing over the line I had drawn for myself… why not treat myself? I even ate them both on the drive home, so I could walk in the door without Daniel or Logan being any the wiser about it; which is weird, as it’s not as if either of them would judge me for it. I’d also had a bag of candy sitting by the recliner in the bedroom, so while I hung out in there while the boys watched their anime, I had ‘dessert’ as well.

Yeah, not my proudest moment.

It really shouldn’t be a surprise that, when I got up this morning and checked the scale, I was essentially right back where I had been at the same time yesterday. Still under the line by that same pound-and-a-half, so there’s that, but all the progress, all the pride in making such an advance was completely wiped out. And I realize I’ve no one to blame for it but myself. I could have held out, and done the right thing, but I took advantage of the fact that it was convenient, I could afford it (in multiple senses of the word), and I satisfied my ‘jones’ at the cost of those gains.

Look, this isn’t meant as a confessional; it’s not like this is even a sin, necessarily. Granted, I knew what I ought to do to maintain at least some of those gains, and decided not to – by some definitions, it might be called one. Indeed, it was an active choice, rather than a passive one like skipping the gym or some such – I was deliberately getting something I probably could have done without, just because I felt like it. If that’s not a parable for something larger (like me), I don’t know what is. Still, I don’t think the Lord is likely to get too upset at me for it; honestly, the loss of those results is probably punishment enough, even in His book.

Anyway, that’s how my morning has started, so we’ll have to see how things go from here. Until later, keep an eye on me, and wish me luck; I’m probably going to need it.