It's been somewhat of a dumpster fire, here in the Heartland. "Life on life's terms," and all. Nothing bad. No, not at all. Just my crazy, happy life, and not staying up to all hours, playing on the computer. Now...let's see what's happened since last we spoke:
In February came Mom's birthday in Connecticut. Then, a few days later, I renewed MY belly button (Not such a big deal, in my eyes, because my AA birthday is more important.) So, we pulled a road-trip out of our magic hat, coinciding with Mom turning 90, me being of official retirement age, and Aiden having a President's Day weekend. We planned: I made good travel food, we set up reasonable stops for rest, and planned on some controlled dietary mayhem. I even baked, and ran our famous, long-standing family-favorite Wacky Devil's Food Cake with Wilton Icing through the calorie counter (Oh. Em. GEE!!!!! FOUR HUNDRED TWENTY calories per serving!) A momentous birthday requires a cake! A vegan cake, at that.
Well, we're Sicilian; we gather, we love one another, we eat. Took Mom to her favorite pizza place. Pasta ajo y olio, with about a pound of broccoli on it. Something about good pasta, drowning in decent olive oil, broccoli and chopped garlic is like letter from home, as Dawn's Momma likes to say. (Only thing missing were the chickpeas. Oh, well.) And, the fine folks at Mykonos in Danbury aren't shy about portions. But...we'd planned on the caloric firestorm. And we tracked it. All of it, to the best of our ability.
Saturday night, we went to Mark and Melissa's. Oh, boy, did we go to Mark and Melissa's. Pita; hummus; baba ganoush; olives; more pita; more treats; crudite; falafel...and all tracked, again. And, a lovely time was had by all and sundry.
Sunday morning, coffee with Rick, Jen and Danielle. We went back to Mom's, Aiden shared her lunch with her, and then we went back to the Wyndham, snacked on our provisions (seitan patties, tofu slices, etc) and swam in the motel pool for a minute until we went to Rick and Jen's for dinner. More middle eastern treats, spaghetti squash; traditional spaghetti; Rick's amazing sauce (sauce is RED, gravy is BROWN) and salad. I was not going to weigh/measure portions. In someone else's house, one simply does not behave that way. I'm a good enough judge to be able to 'eyeball it.' Another lovely time was had by all and sundry. Again.
May I add, here, that our family had been specifically attentive to our vegan choice: reading labels, asking suppliers, and making sure our lifestyle was respected. WITHOUT there being any of the joke-making and snarkiness that people expect of vegan/non-vegan gatherings. That's love.
Monday morning, we awoke to snow, sleet, barfy roads. But, we needed to get back to the bosom of our hearth, so off we went; again, relying on our stores of pre-prepared goodies. No junk-food for us! Used to be I shopped at the dollar stores for as much junk as I could cram into a large box, plus pop and stuff to go with, when we went on road trips. Potato chips, tortilla chips, pretzels, peanut butter, Rock Star...all processed, all fat, sodium, sugar and chemical-laden. No more. Nuh-uh.
Then we woke up Tuesday, and stepped on the scales. Dawn had missed her traditional Sunday weigh-in, but...she'd lost 0.8 pounds. I went to the local VA CBOC on Wednesday and discovered I'd lost 0.7. Major? In the broad scheme, no. But, considering it was a lot of dining out, and that cake, I'd say we fared well against the madness.
And...another week passed. not much to say except that there was no rebound from all that bread, pasta and olive oil. In fact, we've shown consistent losses since. To the tune of 44.1 pounds lost, myself, since this started. Last weigh-in said I'm down to 210.3. (That's from a starting weight of 254.4.) Oi; what a weight off my shoulders. Literally.
Almost fifty pounds. That's about as much as Little Buddy Sunshine weighs. An elephant's heart weighs 44 pounds. A five-gallon bottle of water weighs 40 pounds. Think about that. I've been walking about, with around five gallons of water wrapped around me. Next time you're at the grocery store, lift a five-gallon jug o' water. Tell me how it feels. Because, in 5.9 pounds, I'll have lost that: 50 pounds.
So, here's the last pic, one taken who-knows-where, one taken at the VA CBOC, where I wear the same clothes, and step on the same scale, every week.
My pal Will says, "Wow, those eyeglasses are getting bigger and bigger!" I'd never thought of that. I've been looking at how far up my overalls buckles are going, how loose my trousers are getting, how many holes I've gone back, in my belt. I'm getting a little poochy under my chin, because the fat in my face is taking off and running away. I never thought to measure "inches" when I began, and I was absolutely ashamed of how I looked in the mirror, so I never took "beginning" swim trunk pics to illustrate the loss. Kinda sorry I didn't.
And, through this whole journey, I continue to praise my heavenly Father. I continue to thank my wife for inspiring me. I'm continually grateful to the 12 Steps and 12 Traditions of Alcoholics Anonymous, because this powerlessness is the same as my other powerlessness. It's merely a symptom. What we do to feed our addictions doesn't really matter. The fact is that we feed it. We need to hit the disease where it lives, and the 12&12 is, *in MY case,* the perfect weapon. That, faith in a loving Creator, and the love of a supportive family.
And, that's the last few weeks, condensed. Thanks for dropping in; thanks for reading. Be well; practice peace; see you at the next one!
