So I haven't been walking like I had been. I've been stalled back up at about 260 for a few days. But by "stalled", I of course mean my sewerage system. I stopped taking the fiber laxative I'd had on hand because it has a $^@%-load of sugar in it. No laxative--something that should make you $^@%--should have a $^@%-load of anything in it but fiber! So I now have the sugar-free version. Took that this morning, after the low-carb mocha I shouldn't have had, hoping for aid.
No joy.
Well, I did some work, watched a documentary on Netflix, cleaned my kitchen island, waited, and...
No.
So I ate an Atkins bar (Yum! But damn the carbs, even the Net ones).
No.
I figured that by this time, nothing was likely to happen. Probably. I needed to go make a (very meager) deposit at the bank about 3/4 a mile from here. My landlord's been letting me use his truck while he can't drive (detached retina), so I could have driven, but I needed--and wanted--to walk. It was a warmish day, and I really wanted to walk before it got hotter. I know that the lack of exercise is expressly one of the things that's keeping the weight-loss creeping along, and I want it to go faster. So I wrapped up my domestics, slapped on the Keans, and headed out.
I have a little system for, shall we say, "emergency rescue". I walk on the side of the street that takes me with the flow of traffic. If I suddenly get alerts from the, uhhh... "Waste Management Dept", I can stop at a bus stop, hang out and hopefully get rescued in time.
And that, of course, is exactly what happened. Fortunately, I made it into the local Mondo-Mart down the street with time to spare. I have visited this bathroom more times this summer than I care to admit. Well, honestly, I don't care either way. I'm grateful that it's there and public. But I'm so familiar with that 'loo that I have my preferred stall, and am well versed in local lore: who gives up the goods after three PBR's, who is a total stoner, and what the Fourth Reich is up to, as well as what local bands are full of, apparently.
So, yeah. Relief. And... umm... and how. 'Nuff said. As a vegetarian, I really didn't have this problem. This constipation is like a return to the bad ol' days of me eating meat for me. As a spinal cord injury survivor, the bladder and bowel control are things #1 & #2 to go (hehe... see what I did there? '#1' & '#2'? Heheheh... heh... anyway) and I have suffered that issue rather painfully since I was 15. But if I have to suffer it again for this to work, I'm fine with it. I have my sugar-free fiber-2-go stuff, and it'll be a twice-daily thing.
I walked back to the flat from the bank. Check that: I floated. Good lord, I felt like a feather. A hot, sweaty feather, admittedly, but a helluva lot lighter than I set out. Peeled off the sweaty stuff and headed to the shower.
255.8!
So, that is my real, current body weight. Seriously, though, after drinking some shower water to rehydrate the insides, and absorbing some through the skin, it was 256.2. O! sweet water of life. Why must you weight 8.3lbs/gallon? I have been drinking more water lately. It's important to the process for a number of reasons, not the least of which is my bowels. So I've been really trying.
But back to the weigh-in. I do believe that if I keep this up, I should make my first goal of 250 on time. That will be big. I will celebrate. I will celebrate without food! I will not do what I used to do and use success as an excuse to undermine myself and aim myself back to failure. I have saved something special for myself for this occasion. Some may say it's silly. I don't. It's very special to me, and I have saved this for years. A special little treat that I have reserved for the two-five-oh, and I didn't give in and enjoy it at 253 back in 2007 or whenever it was. I wanted to earn it. It will be nice. I will wait until I actually hit 249 or lower, so I know that 250 is real.
I'm all about reality now.
P.S.: Hope you enjoy the new masthead logo. That's the tub that was custom-made for the 27th President of the United States--William Howard Taft. A notorious tubby if ever there was one, Taft--or "The Big Lub"--was too big to fit comfortably in the White House master bath tub, so he had this made and installed. Acording to the Wiki gods: "Weighing over 300 pounds (140 kg) on average, Taft was physically the heaviest American president ever elected, and the last president to have facial hair."[3]
A side note: At my max, I weighed about 30-40lbs more than "The Big Lub" ever did. Must be the facial hair...
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