Not Doing It For Me

Dearest Rachel –

Fall is certainly making itself felt, with cooler temperatures and shorter days; indeed, that was just brought home yesterday when we had to set our clocks back. But at the same time, it’s not gotten so cold yet that I find myself having to wear the really bulky clothes that conceal the effects of my attempts to lose weight. Either that, or there isn’t any concealing it at this point (which seems a little odd to me, considering that I can still see that I have a ways to go before I truly look presentable from the waist up). In any event, I’ve gotten a fair number of comments from people, including something along these lines from people who I really think ought to know better:

“It’s really good to see you’re doing this for yourself.”

Now, I know I need to be gracious, and accept the compliment for what it is – and in most cases, I do. If nothing else, there’s little point in trying to set anyone straight in casual conversation – and really, all but those last two words of this sentence are both innocuous and perfectly correct. It’s just that those last two words stick in my craw.

Let’s face it, honey; I’m not doing it for me. If I were, I would’ve started doing it back when my doctor first suggested that I could stand to lose a few pounds. After all, it isn’t as if I didn’t have the time, once I quit my job, to accompany you when you went swimming, and work out in the fitness center while you did that. It also isn’t as if you and I couldn’t have stopped every other day or so at the local grocery for fresh produce – whether fruits or vegetables – to eat on a more regular basis, rather than the ‘cracker snacks’ and chocolate that we tended to prefer. And while I did start walking across town before I really started in on my fitness regimen, that was all after you left, so you never knew about it.

It just didn’t seem as if it would ever make any difference. After all, it’s basically always been the case that I could have stood to lose weight, going back to when I was in college and before. Why, I was considered a ‘husky’ kid even in grade school. So the suggestion, even from a medical professional, that I should lose weight would always be met with a dismissive “yeah, yeah I know,” and left at that. It was the way things always had been, and I assumed it always would be. So I didn’t even try; it never occurred to me that anything I might try to do would get results.

I wonder if you ever felt the same way about the house, and the clutter within it. That’s another thing that’s changed since you had to leave, and maybe that’s what had to happen in order to accomplish that, sad to say.

Although, having to admit something like this about my current efforts to improve myself makes the old me seem particularly thoughtless toward you. You’d mentioned in a recent study about how you liked to look beautiful for me; what does that say about me, that I didn’t make a similar effort in turn? Then again, if we both believed that the return on the investment of time and effort wouldn’t generate sufficient results – if “the juice wasn’t worth the squeeze,” as I’ve heard it said multiple times lately – why would you insist I do so, or that I would take the initiative on my own?

And yet, much to my surprise (and yes, I suppose no small amount of gratification), all this deliberate effort is, in fact bearing fruit. Lars keeps telling me that I should be feeling as if a weight is lifted from my shoulders and back – because it literally is – and while I don’t actually sense that as such, I do find myself with a bit more energy and speed. I don’t get winded trying to keep up with him; rather, it’s the other way around these days, despite the fact that he’s leaner (by dint of being both taller and lighter, even now) than myself. Those twenty-five pound dumbbells, while still not insignificant in my hands, aren’t the supreme test of strength they once were; so I’m clearly building up muscle. I can sense the changes, even setting aside the obvious fact that the numbers I’ve been so diligently keeping track of have declined as they have (including the fact that I’ve thus far spent all of November under 230 pounds).

Of course, even the silver linings have a cloud attached to them. I’ve told you about the additional energy; it turns out that there are studies that prove what I was guessing about enhancements to testosterone counts and libido due to the effects of this exercise. At least, with Logan living with us – and taking his pre-work shower at about the same time as I get home from the gym – I’m forced to deal with a cold (or at best, lukewarm) shower, which, at the moment, is just about what I need under these circumstances.

Because, after all, I’m not doing this for myself, but rather to appeal to some theoretical individual who, I hope, would appreciate what I look like, and that I’m trying to look that much better as time goes by. It may be that we’re not supposed to judge books by their covers, but to extend that analogy a little further than usual, there are so many books out there, one almost needs a flashy cover in order to induce the reader to consider picking it up in the first place. It may not be how life should be, but it’s how it is, and I suppose I ought to be grateful that I actually am able to make a few changes toward that end. Again, I’m sorry I never tried to do this much for you, but you seemed okay with me as I was, and neither of us thought this was even possible, so…

I have to admit, if we consider our bodies as temples of God, I think my attitude toward that compliment I tend to receive is not unlike Terry Taylor’s with regard to some contribution he apparently made toward his own church…

Anyway, that’s what’s been going through my head this morning. Keep an eye on me as I go about my day, honey, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.