Dearest Rachel –
I didn’t do a lot of work on this letter to you yesterday when the subject occurred to me. After all, I was busying myself in the booth during the morning’s three services – and I had to keep on my toes, since there would be lulls at intermittent times in between baptisms this week, and I needed to be ready to put up one song or another (there was no set order, and it was accepted that I wouldn’t be able to put up the first line of any given song until it had already been sung). So there wasn’t a whole lot of time for me to focus on what I might say to you about the subject when it occurred to me; all I could do was to mention the topic, and hope I could fill in the words later for you.
And that wasn’t exactly guaranteed; this is the very reason why I make an effort to fast on the weekends I work in the booth. If I’m just sitting around on any given day, especially at home, where I know my way around the pantry and kitchen, I will be rummaging around one or the other soon enough, as much out of boredom as out of hunger. Meanwhile, if I’m out and about on errands, there are so many places I could avail myself of one thing or another, either that I’m not skilled enough to prepare for myself (or too lazy to bother with either the preparation or the cleanup), or to restock the aforementioned pantry that much further. Only when I’m out and focused on a job like this can I keep away from temptation, in terms of both opportunity and attention.
But even then, after about twenty hours or so, I will occasionally become acutely aware of my condition. I will never understand those that claim to be able to fast while praying. They say that the lack of food focuses your mind; while I might agree with that, the fact that it focuses your mind on the fact that you could go for [fill in the specific food you’re craving here] doesn’t really advance your spirituality or your prayer life, as far as I can tell.
Of course, I’m not doing it to be more spiritual; far be it from me to claim any virtue from doing so, especially after what I’ve just said about where my meditative focus would be. You may have noticed the weight figures I have been mentioning in passing as of late, and that they’re higher than they used to be. Obviously, I want to start turning that around, but with my ankle bothering me more often than not (although I actually put in nearly eight miles on the treadmill this morning; guess that a level path is sufficient to allow my to push through the pain), I can’t rely on an increase in exercise levels to accomplish that. I actually need to force myself to eat less – or, in the case of a weekend like this past one, eat nothing at all for a sufficient period of time to get my body to start burning off some stored fat.
It’s this resolve, combined with the sensation of hunger that accompanies it, that got me to thinking of this topic. In order to continue to lose weight, I have to turn both diet and exercise into part of my lifestyle. And to be sure, I guess I’ve gotten to the point where exercise is there – if nothing else, those walks with Lars are part of my weekly routine, as is reporting on my weight to him, which is as close to accountability as I get on the subject. But eating less, or even more healthy? I don’t know if I’ll ever get to that point.
The fact of the matter is, I’m going through these days of – well, it would be overstating things to call it ‘agony,’ but there’s no denying that, even after twelve hours of not eating, it’s uncomfortable and unpleasant (except if I’m sleeping, at which point I’m not burning much in the way of calories, in any event) – so that I can go back to eating what and how much I want. In yesterday’s case, there was the fact that the family Easter dinner was finally held last evening, and we all had a lovely meal together. I wonder if this is what the end of Lent feels like to those who observe it; after the forty days are over, going back to those things you pledged to give up for that length of time feel so good to indulge in once again.
There’s also the fact that, in just over a month, Daniel and I will be traveling again, and you know what that means; cruise ship food and drink, and plenty of it. Granted, it’s a line we’ve never been on (an hour on their river boat doesn’t count for me), so it might be a very different menu, but as a general rule, it would be a breach of hospitality for them not to ensure we ate our fill. I know that when we circumnavigated Japan three years ago, I’d meant to hit the fitness center regularly, but never did (the fact that we only had one sea day, right at the beginning of the trip, might have had something to do with it, but that’s hardly an excuse); I’m going to have to go light on the menu, and heavier on the workouts.
However, it occurs to me that, like with the Lent comparison, this is supposed to be a new way of life for me, and, while I like the results when they work (although lately it’s been considerably more of a struggle), I don’t want to have to practice all that much self-control. So obviously, I’m going to need an extra pair of eyes on me at this point, to keep me from going astray – which is why I keep asking it of you. And I know you would wish me well, but I have to emphasize how much I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 