Tuesday, April 19, 2011

240.0 (The return of da Fat Man...)

Well, how the hell are ya?!  Long time, eh?  Actually, 5 months to be nearly exact.  And in that 5-month period, I appear to have lost... two whole pounds!  Lolz.  Actually, I'm pretty damn proud of those two pounds.  The why will be part of this "brief" five-month catch-up.

Back when we last looked in on the Fat Man, he was getting ready for a week-long silent zen monastic retreat, or "sesshin".  I was looking forward to a week of very simple zen monastic cooking, and hoping it would help me drop a few more.  It didn't.  Actually, I put on about three to five pounds, if I remember rightly.  A week of bread, hot cereal, rice, bread, cookies and, um, bread combined with sitting near-absolutely still for about twelve hours a day did what you'd expect it would.  Now, don't get me wrong: I could have done it better, and been more mindful of how much I was consuming, but the sesshin's theme was generosity, and I felt that to be nit-picky about food during this experience was counter to the intentions of it, so I simply let go.  Not all the way, but I just decided to relax.  This was my first week-long retreat, and make no mistake about it, these things are on the low-end of "hard-core" so I decided that being gentle with myself was the best thing to do.  I'm glad I did. For a number of reasons, I had a lot on my mind going into this.

One of those things was regarding a date I'd had just a few days before I left.  It was with a very lovely and, um... very young woman--JLS.  We'd met about a week before, introduced to each-other (remotely) through a mutual friend.  We'd been out to coffee once initially, came back to my place, hung out a bit, then had another dinner date a week later here again.  I wound up with a crashing headache and had to fade early, and we left with a weird and sort of awkward vibe/feeling between the two of us.  I took this weirdness with me to the monastery and sat with it, thinking "well, that's the end of that." I was wrong.

When I got back into cell-phone range, I received a barrage of texts from her (built-up through the week, I assume) letting me know that I was missed, and she was, in fact, interested in me.  This alone made me feel good, because I typically don't read women wrongly, and the way we'd left it, it seemed that I had.

To cut it short, we near-instantly fell in love, and got engaged on Christmas Eve Day.

I did another sesshin in January.  Put on a few more pounds.

Happily in love, making vegan specialties of mine for her (she is veg, and often vegan), sweets, etc.

HELLO, 252!

Now, where the pride comes in.

First off, I caught myself in a manner and at a place that kept me feeling in control.  I didn't flip out, didn't throw in the towel, didn't get too discouraged.  I simply got back at it.  Most importantly, I didn't beat myself up over it.  I just saw that it was time to get back to work.

I knew in my mind that I was likely to put on a few pounds over the winter.  I live in the Pacific North-Wet.  Walking in the cold, damp winter rains is not something my disabled body really does well at--let alone enjoys--so I knew the lack of exercise alone would ding me.  But I also was eating a bit from stress, and some from boredom.  But I caught myself.  I caught myself at a place I'd so often tripped over before.  This time I didn't screw it up.  Again, that alone is encouraging to me.

I think I topped out at 253-4.  That was about two months or so ago.  I've been back to low-cal-ish low-carb, hovering around "induction"-level carbs since then.  In that time, I've dropped about fourteen pounds.  Pretty good.  I feel in control again, and am feeling more energized about really getting back at it each day.  Still fighting off the winter apathy about exercise, but that's just as it goes.  As the sun becomes more present in my life, that too will get easier to get past.  I have my exercise stationary bike back in my flat, so I have that beast as a back-up.

At one point last year, I hit 229.8lbs.  It was fleeting, lasting only a few hours.  That's okay.  I'm pretty confident that I'll see it for real before too long.  I still have a picture of the number between my feet on my scale to remind me.

But I also have another picture.  It's of JLS and me, naked, standing in front of my bathroom mirror together.  She is so gorgeous; voluptuous, soft, yet a healthy weight.  This here is the part where I'd say something self-depreciating like "But me?  Well..."  But there is none of that when I look at that image.  I actually look good.  I have collar-bones showing, and a chin, and strong shoulders, and my toned arms about her bare waist.

And I am proud of that.  I am proud that I've stuck with it.  And I'm proud of who I am, no matter my weight.  But being more in control of this issue is so empowering, I can't see going back.  I don't want to go back.  I want to keep walking.  As hard as it is at times for me to do, I want to simply keep marching on.  I have so much to live for.  I did before I started, and I most certainly do now.

Two pounds. 

Right. @#$%ing. On!