Oh....by the way...

I haven't been as diligent as I could be, with the measurements. That's because I haven't walked my lazy ass across the hallway to use the Faux-flex...the weight machine in my son's old bedroom. But...I DID walk last week. That makes ONCE A WEEK that I circumnavigate old 922...only LAST week instead of double-looping the store, I went ONCE around the building, and once around the parking lot. It was cold...under 28, as I remember. And EXHILARATIN', may I add. Somewhat more than 'kinda brisk.'

I hate to admit it. I had another industrial accident, much to my embarrassment...and to the chagrin of my department head, store manager, and Risk Management down in Cincy. I've been ordered to light, one-handed duty for no less than six weeks, and had a cortisone injection. I also have to wear a sant'antonio BRACE on my LEFT hand...which, coming on the heels of my RIGHT hand coming back online, is a rather appreciable PITA. And, we're not talking Middle Eastern flat-bread, either. But, in all this, I've been assigned to Miss Tiffany, as her aide-de-camp. And, her office is on the second floor. And the particular project in which we've been ensconced this week is located ACROSS the store...on the second floor, also. No elevator, thank you. WTH, it's just ONE FLOOR. But...you have to walk DOWN one flight...across the joint...and then UP one flight. Repeatedly. All day. It's about an 85,000 square foot store. 

But....

My arthritic frikkin' knees...which had been ACHING excruciatingly these past months...don't HURT. 

My knees...do NOT...hurt. It's 2240hrs, I've been running up and down stairs, across the store, up and down off step-stools all day, and these old knees feel GREAT! No extra celebrex. No NSAID's. No lidocaine patches, no Flector patches...not even so much as an Ibuprofen or ANYTHING! I've lost almost the whole fifteen pounds I wanted to lose, in the first step, and I feel SUPER, dammit! One more pound. Sixteen ounces. I can do that ASLEEP!

What a difference, and I haven't even really TRIED. Just...gave up meat. Which created a craving for more protein. Which I feed with plant-based protein, and augment with OTHER plant-based nutrition. How wild. Far OUT, man! Far OUT!

Keep pushin', keep pushin', keep pushin', keep pushin on...

Well, best beloved, it's been another week. Down to 223#. Exactly. That makes it official. I've lost FIFTEEN POUNDS since the first of the year, and pretty much without any silly-(_)_) 'resolutions.' Now, I can go buy that sausage-stuffer on eBay...if I still want to. I still have to think about that one. Maybe I don't NEED another toy in the kitchen.

Over the last week, I've been doing research...again. Found out that there's a form of seitan that is leavened. In Chinese, it's called kao fu (烤麩); Japanese, sukiyaki fu (すき焼き麩). The traditional preparation calls for leavening with baking soda. Ever the non-traditionalist, I went ahead and used yeast and sugar. Oh. Em. GEE!!! The stuff kicks BUTT. First one was just plain gluten, with spices. Nice texture, nice feel, great taste. Next one incorporated sun-dried tomatoes and garlic. Hoo-BOY. I've eaten it fried with eggs, cold by itself, over nine-grain with sauce and mozzarella, in a panini with steak sauce and Swiss cheese... Now, I wanna incorporate honey, cocoa powder and pistachio nuts into it and make a Seitanic dessert...this stuff is really and truly versatile. Slice it thin, layer it with low-fat ricotta, cinnamon, splenda...ya think?

I also made yaki-fu stew this week. Vegetable broth, carrots, onions, peppers, red pepper flakes, mahi-mahi, kombu... then I threw in udon noodles. Put the fork in, Mother, I'm done. No...not low-carb. But, low fat, high fiber, and VERY high protein.

I'm having fun. I'm eating healthier, and having a good time with it. I'm also driving Dawn NUTS, but she loves me. Wheat gluten just isn't her thing. But that's okay. I'm not exceptionally fond of "Biggest Loser," yet, it inspires her. I respect that. We're in a race, together...making each day count, making the best of the time we have together, because, Lord knows, those days are NOT indefinite. As with the Program...it SHOULD be fun. God didn't put us here to be mopes. He put us here to celebrate Him, be useful and prayerful. But, most of all, He put us here to be joyful. 

Daddy, I'm joyful. Really, and honestly. As I head into another birthday, I know there ain't a darn thing I want. And, by Your grace alone, I have all I need. Thank you for the walking I got done this week. Thanks for another set of seven days, sober. And thank you for letting us get to that concert, as well. Fun times.

God, thank you for having granted me the serenity...

...to have accepted the things I could not change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. 

Yeah, apologies to Reinhold Niebhur. I've joined the ranks of MILLIONS that have 1) plagiarised his prayer, and 2) CHANGED it to meet MY personal feelings. Might I explain:

Every day I see signs, posters, and politicians screaming "God Bless America!" What the hell, people, He HAS!!! God blessed America from the start, and I'm really concerned that after over TWO HUNDRED YEARS, the main portion of the population of this United States has NOT learned how to publicly and concertedly say, "Thanks, Dad!" What the frig are you WAITING for? THANK Him! 

Bearing these things in mind, a few years after I started getting sober, I began saying the Serenity Prayer as this heading states it: "Thank you for the serenity..." because He HAS. He GRANTED it, I don't need to keep asking God for the same thing, over and over. If serenity, courage and wisdom were NOT forthcoming, begging Him wouldn't get it. God doesn't have Alzheimer's. He's not STOOPIT. God's just not a loudmouth. He's not going to throw a lightning bolt at what I'm asking, saying, "Here, jackass, it's over HERE!!!" Jack F, in Elmira used to be fond of saying "Be still, and know that HE is God." God's not a grand-stander. His still, small voice, that voice from within, is gentle and guiding, but not neon-lit, ground-effected or stroked and bored. It ROCKS the universe, but with majesty, power, illumination...not bluster. Don't accept that "No is still an answer" until you LOOK at where God may have quietly put the "Yes," so that you'd APPRECIATE it. 

Hear that scraping? That'd be ME, putting away my soapbox for the day.

This is me, in my office...well, okay, it's NOT an office. I figured THAT out after my desk got flushed several times. The point is, my face is getting noticeably thinner. I've gone from 238# at the beginning of January, to 226# yesterday morning. The size 38 trousers trousers that I couldn't button in January FIT me yesterday. It's working, by the grace of God. Eating well has done me well. And, I walked the store, yesterday. OUTSIDE. Twice. It's just one mile, but it beats sitting on my (_)_) doing NOTHING. And I walked it in under eleven minutes. Not bad for an old fart. And, oh yeah: I was worried, because I walked the perimeter on my first fifteen minute, Union guaranteed break (thank you, UFCW), and I did it hell-for-leather. I thinks to myself, as I walks into the happy factory: "I'm probably gonna hafta DRAG my (_)_) outta here at 1800..." Not so. I was AMPED all DAY, Bubbeleh...and I mean AMPED. I was on a ROLL and felt great all afternoon and into the evening, when I dropped into bed, at a decent hour, and thereafter slept all night.

Next, we add weights to my ankles. At one time, I had five pounds strapped to each limb, and seven pounds in each hand. Hey...If I can carry it as FAT, I can carry it as a CHALLENGE. And...another thing? When I looked in the mirror, I saw my Dad. He's gone, now...just over three years. But his rosy cheeks, his vibrant skin, that "healthiness" he exuded are showing in me. It's working. I have a shot at getting THAT old...with Dawn, with my kids and grandkids (Dean and Dyllan,  you two better WAIT for THAT announcement!) Yeah. I'm a happy boy. 

That said, this has been a good week, praise God, from whom all blessings flow. Last week was kinda hairy; another work-related accident, another visit to the ER, some small anger at myself for being human...much gratitude because God is good, ALL the time, and it was nothing worse than a couple bruises. Dawn did have to give me a crowbar so that I could pry my butt off the pity pot (thank you, Princess) but the negatives were FAR outweighed by the positives. Read on:

Some time back, Dawn and her friend Heather went ISO this place out in Gratis, OH, for oddball stuff: grains, flours, etc. I've never seen the man-folk, so I'm none too sure if they're German Baptists or Amish. They have no radio, TV or internet, but the womenfolk wear those little linen and net haircaps. Be that as it may, last time Dawn and I went to the place, together, I ordered up a TEN POUND BAG of wheat gluten, with which to make seitan. Or, wheat meat, kofu, mi cang, グルテンミート(gurutenmito,or 'gluten meat') Got it for $2.15/pound. That's like, STOOPIT inexpensive, and allows me to experiment more freely. I also bought some nice nine-grain, and a big-(_)_) sack of soy flour, to make soymilk. And, from the soymilk, tofu.

Now all I have to do is get a source for inexpensive cheesecloth, because when I wrap the dough up in only one or two layers of cheesecloth, it has a tendency to burst its seams, and go wandering. Not my intention. And, I'm wondering if a sausage stuffer is or is not the answer, because what happens when you boil a faux-sage? It expands. To, like, twice the original size...will the vegetarian casings burst? Will the artificial casings allow enough simmering medium inside the casing to properly cook the stuff? See, there are different ways to season, shape and cook seitan, and I want to fully explore them so I don't get bored with it. I mean, you can grill a porterhouse, top it with onions and mushrooms and top it with some nice Maytag Blue just so many times before the THOUGHT of a steak makes ya wanna hurl. Please, be real. We tried that famous doctor's low-carb induction twice, and lemme be honest: by the end of ONE WEEK, my 'favorite foods' was ONE FOOD: BREAD. I could have committed a CRIME for a piece of stale bread. 

But...I'm a patient man...willing to look, seek, find, after a fashion. Immediacy of gratification isn't what it's all cracked up to be. Another saying I learned in AA is "Time takes time." I didn't get this porky overnight, and I'm not going to look like Lance Armstrong when I wake up tomorrow morning, either. Or Dwayne Johnson, or Vin Diesel. Or, apparently, Stanley Tucci. Sorry, Linda. Right now, looking like Kirstie Alley isn't an option anymore. Oh, she has a cute face...but...

I'm still meat-free. I NEED fish...sorry, vegans...at this point, I still have to share in SOME slaughter, because of the omega-3's and the availability factors thereto attached in fish. Eggs and milk, as well. I may have to just go looking for humane sources for those items, is all. 

So. This week's stats. 

                   height   weight    body fat% water%     neck     waist      chest      bicep

01.01.10     5'10"      238          unk              unk           unk    over 42    d-cup   milk-muscles  

02.02.10     5'10"     223.5         32               51     (Gotta wait for Li'l Sugar to measure)

I went to Doc Goeller (http://www.premierhealthnet.com/physician.aspx?id=24542) for a routine f/u on a joint problem, and to reevaluate my sleeplessness. They did my vitals; they ran blood work. BP? 110/80. That's not what it was, ten years ago...but it's WAY better than it's been running, routinely. I got a telephonic about my serum levels, and wasn't thrilled...they've gone UP...but, since LAST YEAR. I'm going to ask for a recount in six months, after I've been doing this pescetarian gig for a bit. 

Dawnie says to look at it like this: You cheat on your spouse. You do it again. And, again. Pretty soon, they're not gonna trust you anymore. Oh, you may be a good boy (or, as the case may be, good girl.) But, it's going to take some time before they trust you again. On the other hand, you cheat on your diet. And you do it again. And, again. Pretty soon, when you go to picnics, people invite you over so YOU can provide the shade. You get tired of GreenPeace running up to you at the beach, prodding you toward the water with sticks, saying, "Don't dry out, Big Buddy..." and you go onna diet. Don't be shocked that, within only a month, you haven't cleaned out that cesspool of fat, stored carbs, artificial additives and whatnot. Don't be surprised that...time takes time, and that the journey of a few dozen pounds begins with the loss of ONE...and the conviction that you can do it, by the grace of God. 

I mentioned my earthly father, a minute ago. Vinnie. Great guy, good father; product of the depression, the swingin' thirties and forties, product of the cold war and the fifties. His method of parenting wasn't much more different than any other Dad, at that time. He was 'tough love' embodied. But, when he got soft, he'd do things like take us to work with him, at Food Fair, or Grand Union, grocery stores in the area. Someone broke a case of pickles in the meat room yesterday, and I slid right down that briny, garlic smell to the deli departments I remember from 45 years ago...the smell of cold, hanging meat, hams and wursts, pickles...HUGE friggin' roast beef on hard-roll sangwiches, with REAL Hellman's on them. That's when I hadda break and go into the biffy, and saw my face in the mirror. Somehow, with all the smells in the meat department, and the way I looked in the mirror...it was like seeing him again, and he wasn't on his death bed. It was like seeing Daddy again, in his garden (which, in my youthful stupidity, I accused him of loving and caring for more than us kids; sorry, Boss). And, I dreamed last night of my own garden, and woke up thinking how happy he'd be, us following in his footsteps, raising things we love, just like him.

Heavenly Father, it's been a wonderful week. I am grateful. I'm above ground. I'm sober. I'm STILL MARRIED!!! I'm happy, relatively healthy, and productive. I like what I do (that lady with the chicken breast fillets, and the other with the suet for her birds? Thanks for them, too.) My family loves me. I'm appreciated where I am. My hand? It's better. I'm cutting, at work again. My foot? Getting there. Thanks, for the healing talents of Doc Scott. My problem with the VA? Congressman Turner and Governor Strickland are on it. The money tree I've been asking for, in my back yard? Ain't there, yet; not even a sprig. But, You, Father God, provide. You give me this day, and every day, my portion. And for that, I am truly, lovingly grateful.