Monday, March 8, 2010

Heads Up, Seven's Up

Ha ha ha!  Wasn't that witty?  That's right, my dear friends, seven weeks is d-o-n-e done.  Seven weeks isn't necessarily a milestone.  On my milestone board up on the wall, I only permanently document every four weeks.  And I usually only send out a Facebook status update every two weeks.  So, why is seven weeks such a big deal?  Well, let me answer that in a roundabout way by telling you a story.

When I started dating Heather, my dating record had been pretty pathetic.  I had gone on dates with people off and on through high school, college, and beyond.  There were many instances when I was "on the hook" with someone - as How I Met Your Mother explained the other day on the show.  That is where a person holds you in limbo by saying things like, "I am not interested . . . right now."  But, as for dating relationships, I had only had two official girlfriends.  One in college, one my first year out of college.  Both of them had lasted exactly five days.  The first one I broke off.  The second one she did.  So, I dreaded day five.  With Heather, we knew it was different.  But, still, when day five came rolling along, I was nervous all day.  I dreaded it.  And each phone call got my heart racing, hoping that it wasn't the call of death.  We made it through, and starting at day six, we were in completely new territory.

So, since I didn't answer your question, let me answer it now.  I have had many efforts over the year, trying to lose weight or stop eating food or whatever.  One year I didn't eat red meat for an entire year.  It was a noble effort, but I didn't really accomplish anything since I still ate chicken covered with cheese and bacon and guzzled soda like crazy.  I tried Weight Watchers about six years ago and lost fifty pounds in four months, and then gained it back in about six months.  I lost fifty pound right around when Josiah was born, too.  But I gained it back pretty quick.  So, I have certain numbers and such that I bump up against.  And when I can actually get through those, I am in new territory.

One year in Tampa, I actually quit soda.  You see, I can't drink diet soda.  I have a big problem breaking down aspartame.  When I have that (Nutrasweet), I have major medical problems - seizures, chest pains, irregular heart beats.  So that eliminates most diet sodas.  The rest of them have Sucralose (Splenda), which I find disgusting.  So I don't want to drink them.  But I really love the taste of soda.  I have gone through phases with soda.  First I was a huge Coke fan.  Then I began to drain Mountain Dew.  For a while I drank Surge soda (remember that?) - until I got massive headaches from it.  Finally, I became a Pepsi fiend.  I drank soda just about every meal.  I hardly ever drank water.  Soda was my main drink.  I would have it with lunch, with dinner - and some mornings to wake up with breakfast.  It was my coffee.

I realized that I had a problem with soda a long time ago.  And I have tried from time to time to change it.  But I never succeeded.  The only time I came close was in Tampa.  I gave it up and went quite a while.  In fact, I went six whole weeks without having it.  (Ahhh, the seven weeks becomes clearer.)  It was the longest I went without soda since I was in elementary school.  So, to reward myself, one day I went to Subs n Such for lunch.  They had dozens of different sodas.  I treated myself to a fancy root beer.  And I was back to drinking soda every meal within two weeks.  I'm not even kidding.  I began to justify it more and more frequently.  At first, it was only with pizza.  Then Italian food.  Then Mexican food.  Then fast food.  That pretty much summed up my food intake, so soda was with everything.

I have never been able to stay away from soda that long again.  I maybe went a week or two.  But for twelve years, six years was the bar I never came close to.  It was like Bob Beamon's world record long jump in Mexico City - when he never came within feet of it again.  So, this week, when I hit seven weeks, I realized I had broken through into a new place.  Some people ask what I plan on doing with my problem foods later on in this process.  And I always say that I have come to peace with the fact that I may never have those things again.  (Although the thought of life without pizza still is troubling to me.)  But soda, there is no quibbling about.  I will not drink it again.  There is no reason for me to have it.  I have retrained my tongue to handle water and the occasional glass of milk.  I don't put flavoring in my water.  I don't want to bring that desire for sweetened drink into my mind again.  I treat it the same as alcohol - it is a non-negotiable issue forever.

So, even though week seven isn't a milestone, it was a big deal.  I have lost 41 pounds as of this morning.  I am at 314.  Which means that 300 is within my vision and grasp.  I keep making new foods that will enable me to stay on track.  (Last night I made meatloaf for the first time ever.  It was awesome.  You are jealous.)  Today, I had to go and get a new belt from Target.  My other ones were so big they wouldn't hold my pants up - even with my shirt tucked in.  I got a 40-44 inch belt.  But it has holes the entire length of the belt, which will actually help as I keep losing weight.  That's a pretty big deal for me.  Buying a new belt is something that really signifies the progress.

Last week, my wonderful mother-in-law Lois bought me a nice surprise last week.  She got me a pair of Skechers Shape Ups.  Those are the shoes that have a rounded sole.  (Here's a link.)  They are designed to help work out your legs and muscles while walking.  So they are good for exercising, and for just walking in general.  They feel great and have actually helped my back quite a bit.  The cool thing is that they tell you that you are supposed to walk upright with your head held high, to have correct alignment.  Those who know me know that I walk looking down at the ground a lot.  Some of that is to avoid eye contact with people.  But some of it is my effort to curve my body to keep my shirt covering my stomach.  (Didn't know that, did you?)  It isn't good for my back, my posture, or my self esteem.  But, wearing the shoes, I have forced myself to walk the right way.  And it is really cool.  Since my clothes fit better, I don't mind walking that way.  I am kind of proud and confident, knowing that I am well on my way.  Sure, to someone who doesn't know me, I still am a big fat guy.  But I am breaking into new territory.  And it won't be long until I get into other numbers that used to be a stopping point.  Instead of stopping me, though, they are just going to serve as a monument to the victory.

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