I Still Have My Appetite

Dearest Rachel –

It’s almost funny; last week, I was struck at various times by a good half-dozen ideas of thoughts to tell you about – and which didn’t pertain to the moment at hand, so they could be kept in reserve until such time as I didn’t have much to tell you about from my current events. This morning, I’m up at what has now become my usual waking hour – a little after five, after having crawled into bed before ten last night to watch one last video (while the boys hung out in the family room, as they usually do) and fallen asleep soon thereafter – with nothing going on at the moment. You’d think I would pull out one of those letters in reserve, and start fleshing it out to send to you. But no, I have to build a whole other story from scratch.

Part of this is because I feel the need to explain why I’m not simply walking down to the fitness center this morning. After all, I’m up earlier than yesterday, and I don’t even have to contend with threatening weather; shouldn’t I just keep up that habit? It’s a more than fair question, and one that I considered even as I lay in bed in that fugue state between sleep and wakefulness. The thing is, I’m meeting Lars around midday to do our usual walk through Harms Woods today; there’s no reason to put myself through two workouts today. So if I seem slothful this morning, don’t worry; I’ll set it aside later on. Besides, back last year, when I was losing weight more consistently, I was only working out maybe three times a week; now, I’m at the point where I’m either at the gym or walking with Lars every single day.

You’d think, with that being said, that I’d be losing weight that much faster at this point. But it doesn’t seem to be the case. I can think of a few reasons for this. The least obvious is the fact that, by working out – particularly for the first ten or fifteen minutes, before I get on the treadmill (where I can actually keep track of calories as I’m burning them), I’m on one or another weight machine, working on this or that set of muscles. Personally, I haven’t noticed much of an effect on myself from this (and, as I’ve said, my weight has remained in this fairly narrow range since before the end of last year). However, people have been asking me if I’ve lost weight, and I don’t know what to tell them. Of course, I have been at this for the last two years, so there’s a reason to tell them “yes.” But for the most part, these are people I’ve only been away from since just before my trip, and I haven’t really lost anything since then (although one could argue that maintaining one’s weight on a cruise is an accomplishment in and of itself), so I feel compelled to tell them “no.” At the same time, muscle is denser (and heavier) than fat, and it apparently has been building up in the places I’ve been working on. So while I don’t see a change – not does my scale – my body is reflecting the results of my efforts that can best be observed by those that see me only on an occasional basis.

Another reason as to why my body doesn’t appear to be shedding pounds as it used to might be because it’s getting accustomed to this new routine. It expects me to be burning off so many calories at the beginning of the day, and so my metabolism tries to conserve as much energy as it can; I don’t burn off as much through simply existing like I used to. Part of this is also due to the fact that I’ve already lost a reasonable amount of weight; it takes less energy to lug around 275 pounds than it does to carry 225 pounds around. It’s why the treadmill and other such machines don’t display the amount of calories being burned unless you first input your weight (aside from the rowing machine, for reasons that escape me), since that makes all the difference. So it’s possible that, between the fact that I’m carrying less in the first place, and my metabolism’s own desire to prepare for the workout it expects to have to provide for, my own body makes the whole calorie-burning process that much more prolonged

But then there’s the simple fact that I still have my appetite, honey. Much as with that other one that causes your absence to be felt that much more keenly, I can’t quite set aside my longing for this or that thing. While I’ve tried to change certain things in my diet – I’m certainly eating a lot more fruit, in particular, than I used to when it was the three of us here – I have yet been able to dispense with junk food altogether. Why, just last week, when picking up a bottle of fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice for Daniel (he prefers it to their orange juice and the store that sells these has so few of them in comparison, for whatever reason; at least the place is literally on my way between the house and my ‘office,’ so I can stop by there regularly and check if they have any for him), I saw that they had a clearance sale on cupcakes specially designed for Fathers’ Day, which had just passed. You, of all people, appreciate the desire to take advantage of a bargain, and I brought them home. But for the next three or four days, after having one the day before, my morning weigh-in (prior to going to the gym) more than reflected the fact that I’d eaten one; despite having all night to burn it off, I was still pushing on the 230 pound limit of the range I’ve been stuck in – and once, I even ventured over the line, only to drop four pounds through my workout.

Likewise, I’m eating later – and slightly heavier – meals than I’d mentally want to, which can’t be helping my metabolism. But mostly, I suspect it’s a matter of quantity and actual nutrition. I’m eating more fast food and takeout now that I’m home and can do that, rather than going through all the rigamarole of preparing something for myself (although, as often as not, I will fix something for breakfast just as often as I’ll simply pour myself a bowl of cereal. On the other hand, even that meal will be heavily weighted– pardon the pun – toward carbs over protein, so I’m not sure it’s doing me as much good as I’d like it to). Lars tells me I ought to get back to the pattern of intermittent fasting that I used to make a habit of, but that hasn’t been as easily said as done. Even on days when I manage twenty-four hours or so, my boredom on Sunday afternoon has to be relieved by working out, which is good, but then I get home and I’m that much more hungry, and in mind for a reward – and with you gone, the only reward left to me is a meal of some sort or another.

As for this morning, I decided that, if my weigh-in amount was over, say, 228, I’d head to the gym anyway, despite the fact that I’d be meeting Lars later. If I had to shower twice today, I’d just live with it. If I was 226 or less, I’d be fine going without.

You might guess that the scale read 227.5. So what did I do?

I sat down here for the last hour since then to tell you about it. And then, after an hour of going through my news feed, I decide to weigh myself again before I get dressed:

Two twenty-six.

I didn’t even do anything in those two hours, and I lost weight. Sometimes, I think I can rationalize it all out, and others – like right now – I don’t think I’ll ever be able to understand what’s going on inside me.

All I can do is to ask that you continue to keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it, as it’s sometimes the only thing I’ve got going for me.