Penance

Dearest Rachel –

I’m not entirely sure why l’m coming to you with this, as if I was confessing to a priest or something. It’s not that you ever concerned yourself with nagging me about my weight, even though I was twice the individual you were. You probably looked on it as a sort of speck-and-log thing, where you had faults that I could center on if you were to bring up mine, in order to deflect; and neither of us wanted to go there.

At the same time, the whole rationale for my attempts at weight-loss and getting into shape would probably get under your skin; I’ve made no bones about the fact that I’m doing this to attract someone else to me. It would all sound very midlife crisis-y, when you stop to think about it. But, of course, the crisis – and there was a crisis – didn’t come from my reaching midlife. So, from where you are, I suppose you can be understanding about it, even as you might wish that I would’ve done so while you were still around. At the same time, you seemed happy with the way things were; maybe it never occurred to you that we needed to change things for the better.

Enough analyzing the ‘why’, I suppose; I just need to talk to someone about this, and who better than you?

***

I won’t lie to you and tell you I was under no illusions that I would lose weight over the course of the convention. You have my previous notes; you know that I thought otherwise. After all, I reasoned to myself, I was only being provided one meal a day – a pretty basic continental breakfast at the hotel. If I didn’t bother with anything else, I should be able to keep up a regular habit of intermittent fasting. Combine that with the regular walk to and from my hotel in the convention center (not to mention the walk within the convention center), and my thoughts of losing weight over the weekend might actually sound reasonable at first.

Or at least maintaining the position I was at.

But the fact of the matter is, it wasn’t just a case of me eating nothing more than a healthy breakfast – which, given that it was all-you-care-to-eat, renders that adjective debatable right there – and going without for the rest of the day. The sponsor swag bag always includes a few edibles (which, now that I write it out that way, sounds more mischievous than it really was, but you know why it sounds suspect), and I’ve taken to consuming what I can rather than bringing them home, where they would undoubtedly only grow either stale or moldy. And let’s not forget the assist from the hotel and a business next door, who would provide the lobby with complementary cupcakes for guests’ enjoyment – and I’m forced to admit I enjoyed a couple of them.

And while I skipped the hotel’s breakfast on Sunday, there was no virtue in that, since I did so in order to better enjoy the brunch repast at the convention – another benefit provided to the sponsors. Granted, part of the point used to be the chance to break bread (and potatoes, and eggs, and bacon – oh, and such bacon! Thick cut, crispy and with a smoky flavor I don’t recall tasting before to such an extent. I can see why AI went with a pig as their mascot; Iowans absolutely know from bacon) with the guests of honor, but not every table can have a guest occupying it at all times throughout the course of the three-hour brunch. It’s the food, after all that makes it worthwhile – and again, it was all-you-care-to-eat. And when one stays there for the entire three hours – both for the conversation with other sponsors, and the swag raffle near the end (where, since you have to be present to win, nearly everyone present did win something. Granted, for every winning number called, there were at least five or six that no one responded to. I brought home a holographic picture from Danganrompa – the boys have seen most of it, so they’ll appreciate it) – one grazes throughout the entire time, regardless of one’s actual hunger. I did make a point of drinking sparkling water rather than soda, but that was bailing out the ship with a teacup.

And then there was the fact that, as I neared home, and drove past the exit for Daniel’s school, I thought about the restaurants in the area, and that one of them existed by us, so I called him up to invite him to the Station for sushi (I guess I didn’t get enough Japanese food over the weekend, all those snack notwithstanding). And you remember how that sort of thing goes; you grab all these little plates, until you suddenly realize you have almost more than you can actually finish. Almost.

So with all that being said, was it really reasonable to think that I’d manage to keep my weight under control over the weekend?

***

I didn’t even bother getting on the scale last night; I really didn’t want to see where I stood. Besides, by that time, it was getting late, and I just wanted to crash. That, and I may have hoped that whatever dreams may come would burn enough calories to get things down to a more reasonable level.

Whether it did or not – I don’t remember any dreams from last night – the number on the scale was, to say the least, dismaying: two fifty-one.

Whether I wanted to or not (and let’s face it, I never want to, and never will), it was time for some penance. Time to hit the gym.

***

Normally, when I plan to go work out before a ‘working’ day, I make sure to wake up early in order to get it out of the way. This wasn’t a planned event; I didn’t get up until almost seven (yes, I know that would still count as early in your book, and honestly, I wish I could sleep in a little more myself, but that’s how things go). But it needed to be done; I made a point of going every morning last week that I tipped the scales at 250, and this was that much worse.

Look, I get that a pound doesn’t make a lot of difference in the grand scheme of things, but it’s a psychological barrier that I want to stay beneath. At this point, it feels like I have to drop almost down to the next barrier, two hundred forty, in order to guarantee that I won’t be in danger of stepping over the one above it. But I’m nowhere close to that.

So, penance. Really, it wasn’t any different than any other morning at the gym: seven minutes on the rowing machine (enough to traverse a mile; at least, I’m keeping up that pace these days, even after a long weekend away); thirty minutes of cardio on the exercise bicycle (although I’ll need to remember to use the course I rode today, as I burned 600 calories in that amount of time, which is unusually high for me); and about twenty minutes of uphill walking, enough to burn somewhere north of 200 calories. All in all, more effective than most trips, mostly due to the bike course.

And it did have an effect; when I got home to shower off, I was back down to two forty-nine. Even better; after drying off, I’d shed another pound beyond that. Oh, it’s nowhere near where I want or need to be, but I’m back on the right side.

Now, if only I could do something about my appetite…

Anyway, that’s all for now, honey. Keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.