Not Really Trying

Dearest Rachel –

You’ve already heard me complain (if that’s the right word for it; it seems a little harsh) that since I’ve come home from this last trip, I’ve had difficulty in getting back to what I refer to as my license weight. I honestly don’t know when it dates from, as I’ve essentially renewed it by mail (due to having a clean driving record) several times, so it’s at least a decade out of date. Maybe closer to two, in fact.

You’ll recall that, by the time things were starting to open up – shortly after it was announced that a vaccine was on the way, and we went off to camp for a fateful day of winter fun – I was stunned to find out that I had picked up some forty pounds in that intervening decade or two. There was some talk about putting me on a diet, with your assistance, but I occasionally wonder how easy or difficult that would have been for you and Daniel to deal with; there would be certain things that couldn’t be allowed in the pantry any more (or at least not in any significant quantities), lest I fall victim to temptation. As things were, we rather enabled each other’s vices; I accepted the clutter and your night owl tendencies, and you were more than willing to latch onto my ‘love handles.’

It took the realization that, if I were to try to find someone new in my life, I would have to work on literally trimming the fat from my frame, or they wouldn’t be interested in the likes of me. And while that sounds like I’m accusing womankind of a certain shallow lookism, it’s human nature that, while we’ve been taught not to “judge a book by its cover,” there are a lot more “books” out there than we have time to read (especially since, to stretch the analogy to its breaking point, we’re meant to only own one book at a time, and be willing to read it cover-to-cover for the rest of our life); the cover is what grabs our attention and causes us to bring it down from the shelf for a preliminary scan. That’s just how life is.

And so, as you know, I’ve embarked on a combination regimen of diet and exercise to get myself down from those lofty heights that you left me at, and to a certain extent, I’ve succeeded. Those forty pounds I’d packed on are gone, and haven’t come back. On the other hand, there was a point when I’d rid myself of as much as seventy from my peak weight; thanks to some letup of discipline (partly due to it being exhausting to maintain – more on that later – and partly due to a lack of result in terms of anyone showing up, causing me to question my motivation); so some of my efforts have been erased over time, especially thanks to my indulgences while traveling. Given a combination of unlimited rich food and no scale to properly monitor myself, this should be no surprise, really.

That being said, I’m still within reach of that license weight, rarely creeping more than five pounds over it (and thus over another significant psychological barrier). Any given period of sufficient physical exercise would suffice to bring me down below it, even if only temporarily. And in fact, I’ve managed to get down below it several times over the course of these last few weeks since returning from this past cruise. But getting it down and keeping it there have been two surprisingly separate issues.

It’s gotten to the point where I sort of dread having to relate my current weight to Lars when we meet up to go walking these days. Ironically, when I gave him the number from yesterday morning, he seemed satisfied to hear it; I’d forgotten that last week, it had been a pound or so heavier – even though both numbers were in that same narrow five-pound band I’ve been bouncing around in since returning from Alaska.

Moreover, by the time I got home from the walk – and this despite eating most of my half of the pizza we shared over lunch – I’d managed to drop another pound or so, which would have probably pleased him to hear. It was still above my license weight, however, so I wasn’t quite as pleased as all that.

So you would think that, upon waking up a little after four this morning, I might at least put in the effort and head over to the gym, as long as I was up. After all, it wouldn’t interfere with the rest of my schedule for today, and the place would have just opened for business. If I really wanted to see a decent number on the scale this morning, that’s what I should have done.

But with only maybe five hours of sleep under my belt, a load of laundry to do, and my feet still being a little sore from yesterday, I just couldn’t muster up the motivation to get up for anything more than a brief trip to the washroom before dropping back into bed for what turned out to be a fairly sleepless hour or so. The fact of the matter is, I just didn’t feel like trying today. And as a result, I’m still sitting poised above that (for now) all-important license weight that I’d rather be below.

The good news is that, while not really trying today, I’m still at the level I was when I got home from yesterday’s walk – which is as low as I’ve been since the beginning of the week. So that’s a step in the right direction… but only a step.

For now, though, I’ve got to get on with the rest of the day – which I may or may not tell you about, depending on whether I think it’s at all interesting (which, by the way, doesn’t mean it is; just that it may be the most interesting part of the day). To that end, keep an eye on me, and wish me well, honey; I’m going to need it.