Cause and Effect?

Dearest Rachel –

I know I’ve touched on the subject even since the new year began; for all I know, you’re tired of hearing about it. But as it’s a long-term goal that will take several years yet to fully accomplish (let alone what reaching what this goal is meant to result in), you’ll just have to be warned that you’re going to hear more about it on a regular basis until I get to where I want to be. And when is a better time to talk about it, but on the first Monday of the new year? So strap in, as this week has been a bit of a roller coaster already.

Let me start with the low points – or would it be the high points? It’s a little confusing when talking about weight loss, since, much like golf or timed competitions, less is better. The more you work on any of these, the lower you get; but that’s a good thing. But that means that when you have more, that’s a bad thing.

And so it was by the end of the day on Wednesday. Now, I could have stopped at the gym on New Year’s Day – the place was open, if not staffed, then, just like on Christmas – but didn’t feel like it. And anyway, I didn’t want to deal with the crowds of newly resolved people who would fill the place for the next two months and then drop out. Sure, I might have the odd fantasy of meeting someone new here, and maybe even becoming the encouragement she needs to keep up with her resolution, but that’s all that sort of thing is – a fantasy. No need to get my hopes up like that. Besides, what better day to take a break than on a holiday? I’d never intended to make this a daily, six-or-seven-a-week thing, to be honest.

On the other hand, it sometimes feels like I have to do so just in order to stay where I am in terms of my weight. A day off like that, combined with not really concerning myself with what I was eating, left me at a weight where I was starting to worry that I not only wasn’t making progress, but was actually losing ground. I didn’t exceed the two-fifteen benchmark (unless you count the occasional step on the scale before bedtime, which Jenn has recommended against – and in any event, I never double-checked in order to codify it), but three consecutive weigh-ins at two-fourteen were concerning. The effects of a day’s indolence and indulgence were making themselves felt; it was time to be a little more careful about my exercise and eating regimens.

Fortunately, this past weekend saw me in the booth again. Granted, this means I didn’t have the time to hit the gym on Saturday, but I did make a point to fast for the twenty-four hour span that encompassed the rehearsals and church services. The only concessions I made were a can of coffee Sunday morning (I know, it’s not something you would have ever touched, but I’m starting to feel – and need! – the effects on caffeine more and more these days. Additionally, I actually like the taste of Black Rifle’s “rich mocha” flavor, and it’s got a quarter fewer calories than the Starbucks’ frappuccino bottles) for the sake of energy, and the odd breath mint or two, for… well, you understand.

When I got home, the boys were already in their usual spots in the family room, so after getting changed out, I drove myself to the gym. I’d already dropped a couple of pounds from Saturday morning, so I told myself that, if I could get under two-ten (not at, under), I’d break my fast after getting cleaned up from my workout. That meant losing at least a couple of pounds of water weight – and I wasn’t able to watch the end of the game playing on several of the screens in the room, because I was sweating too much to keep my glasses on. I’m told our local team beat our regional rivals, and in dramatic fashion; however, considering we’re the only team in the division who isn’t remotely playoff-bound, it doesn’t really matter, even for bragging rights. I get that even a mediocre season is redeemed by beating your rival, but considering it’s a split decision for the season, what difference does it make?

Turned out, it was enough to do the trick; when I weighed myself upon getting home, I was back under two-ten, much to my surprise. I hadn’t been down there since last Monday (which I guess qualifies as “last year,” on that subject). Moreover, it was by a full pound, not just squeaking by with a half-pound. So I felt justified in finishing off the rest of the pizza I’d gotten for myself on New Year’s Day (and don’t worry, I didn’t get it just for myself; I’d picked up pies for each of the boys, too, but whether they’d polished theirs off or not was none of my concern). Still, I knew that breaking my fast in such a manner wouldn’t look good in the morning, as I was familiar with the rules of cause and effect, as well as the calorie count in each of those four slices I devoured.

As a result, I was fully expecting to be dealing with a reading of two-twelve when I got up this morning. And if that was what I was to be confronted with, I was fully prepared to accept it and move on with my daily routine, including another trip to the gym before breakfast. Much to my surprise, I’d actually dropped another half-pound since last night, despite having eaten like I had. What happened to the laws of cause and effect?

Not too long ago, I would have taken this as a win in and of itself, and taken another day off. But these days, there’s not much else to do at such an hour, and too much slacking gets too comfortable. As long as I was up, I figured I’d best do what was needed, and see where it goes from there.

Granted, the weather this morning was pretty daunting; getting rid of the glaze on the car’s windshield was like scratching off an oversized lottery ticket, with about the same amount of reward to it. Finally, the defroster thawed just enough to break things up, and I drove off to the gym – or rather, the empty (at that hour) office park just shy of the gym. That way, I could park behind it, and not worry if I’d done a good job, because I could barely see to drive, let alone park. Hopefully, the time spent out in the open would allow the windows to thaw and clear.

After an hour and a half (and five miles uphill – now I know how our parents got to school, eh?), I left the gym to discover that it had been a forlorn hope. Not only were the windows no clearer than they had been, there had been another layer caked on in the intervening span. And I hardly need to tell you how uncomfortable it was to scrape this layer off in wet gym togs. Thankfully, it had at least warmed up (and I’m not sure I’m referring to the car or the outside air, with the sun now up) that the new layer of glaze actually slid off like the windows were made of teflon; maybe parking out there in the open did it some good after all.

Speaking of doing some good, I made quick time home to check out what effect today’s workout had on me…

Of course, I’ve still got to figure out how to stay at this level – as well as how to drop further from here – but it’s relieving to note that I don’t need to consider myself permanently stuck at the two-ten level.

Toward that end, though (and the end beyond the end – say hello, Megumi!), I’ll still have to ask that you keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck; I’m still going to need it.