Hump Day!

First, I must travel back a day to the fateful Tuesday weigh in. If you don't know this about me, I hate scales. Maybe this is because my weight tends to yo-yo, but I've never really embraced the whole watch what you eat phenomena and then run to the scale to see if it is working. I justify what I drop in my mouth by running, stepping, cycling and boxing. Unfortunately, regardless of daily exercise, when I went to put on a pair of my summer pants a few weeks ago, getting them buttoned was like pulling up a mawashi on a sumo wrestler. To add accountability to my weight loss, I created this blog. I also created this as a sort of "share space". A place where we could all post and comment regarding a common goal.

OK, so I weighed myself and came in at 143 (down from 147). At first, I was tickled to have dropped 4 pounds, but when I really thought about it, I'm wondering, how can I celebrate this week long milestone? I can't exactly sit down with a honkin' hamburger and I can't pour myself a big glass of wine. So, I felt a little lost with my victory and decided to go home and mull over a satisfactory prize for attaining my goal.

Hump day or Wednesday couldn't come around quickly enough. Hunger and denial really makes the week drag on. Add di-eting to the earthquake of high speed crap rolling down a steep hill in my direction each day made reaching Wednesday feel like a small victory in itself. Believe me, I get that "shit happens" and I certainly don't think it was anyone intentionally slinging crap in my direction.

Anyhow, I was so embedded in my daily routine that I almost didn't hear my doorbell ring this morning, that is, until it rang again. I had scheduled an appointment with a medical examiner for my life insurance. The gal assures me upon entering my home that the meeting will take only 15 minutes and will in no way be intrusive (no peeing in a cup or needles). As we sit down at my kitchen table, I look in her little bag of tricks and notice she has a scale. Instead of breaking out in a sweat, I think back to my weigh in yesterday and am feeling OK with it all.

She asks me the usual medical questions and then surprises me with, "Do you drink alcohol?" I'm thinking, of course I do! Open your eyes! You are in my kitchen, right next to my - awfully full - wine rack!
Instead I answered, "Yes, I drink alcohol."

Next, she asks me, "What is it that you drink?" Again, I think to myself, anything, everything, the bigger the better, the stronger more spirited the better! Instead I reply, "wine."

Her next question, probably obvious at this point, is, "How many glasses of wine do you have in a month?" I'm thinking dude, I can't count that high. Instead, I reinterpret her question as, "How many glasses of wine have you had this month?" Waaah, haaa, haaaa! Bingo, the planets align and I know that all my hard work is being rewarded in this single moment because I can legitimately state, "four." The elation I should have felt Tuesday on the scale washes over me and the catch phrase, "everything happens for a reason" takes on a whole new meaning for me.


Later in the day I walk over to my neighbor's house. In spite of my earlier victory my body at this point in the day is screaming, "Enough! Life is short and so is my patience, and I am giving in to temptation." My friend looks at me and invites me to try one of her baked french fries. At first I decline and then I think, "Why the heck not?" They were yummy and I went back for seconds, and thirds, and so on..... We got to talking and I realize that if I let stress dictate what I eat and drink, I will be fighting a losing battle for the rest of my life. We talk for a bit and the more we talk, the more I realize that the volcano of crap I have created in my mind is completely momentary. Yes, situationally, the events suck, but if I let them control my mood and habits, then I will eventually have to buy a whole new wardrobe and I will still be sitting on a pile of crap.

With a renewed sense of purpose, I trot back home with a mission to post my blog and a new sense of faith in myself. So, here I am with a glass of water, not wine and a plate of hummus, not a hamburger and in spite of it all feeling pretty good about it.