Is the Piggy Back Ride Really Over?

After going through the trouble of changing my eating and exercise habits, I did something that I've never done before. I lost a significant amount of weight.

Even though I could write a lengthy post about how other people have responded to the change in my physique, I won't go into too much detail about other people other than to say some of the least disturbing reactions came from the people who said next to nothing about it.

I will talk instead about my own sort of surprising reaction to the change. Now, it's like, well I did this. Was it worth it? And, more importantly, will it be worth it for me to sustain my new fitness behaviors? Before you say, "What kind of no-brainer questions are those?," please note that for most of my post-pubescent life I didn't bother trying to lose my excess weight. I didn't think weight loss was worth the effort except for 2 times when I noticed that my weight was in the obese range. In the first instance, I quit trying to lose weight as soon as I dipped back into the merely overweight range.

Now I am, by some standards, no longer overweight. Is that good? I said yes, but it took me a while to get to that yes.

It is important to me to say this yes out loud because so much of the highly hyped benefits of weight loss are based on the external. In contrast, my yes is based on how I my body feels inside and how it feels as I move through space. This pleasure is all mine. Nobody else sees the breeze between my knees. Maybe more stores carry clothes in my size now, but the clerks aren't going to give me better service because I have more energy--not just after a workout but whenever I move. No one says, "I love how you don't actually have to eat until you're groggy." No one says, "It's so cute how you don't have to stop doing something fun because you're out of breath after two minutes."

The absence or lessening of pain and discomfort is not the same as pleasure in my book, but it's nothing to take for granted either. Before I lost weight, it was as if I was carrying around an average size 3-year-old all the time. Now that the piggy back ride is over, do I really want to pick that kid up again? My knee and my spine will revolt if I do, even if I keep them strong. My body parts will do what they always do when they are overburdened. I can't expect them to change. My behaviors, on the other hand, can be changed. And now I am much more confident that I can change my behaviors as I see fit going forward.

Soon I will move on to other fitness-related goals beyond weight loss and weight maintenance. Of course, weight is just one measure.

Bell du Jour

This online meditation/mindfulness bell that I learned about while flipping through a friend's yoga magazine seemed to help me manage my time at work today. If I go astray, the chime gently lets me know that time is passing and I'd better quit goofing around. The mindfulness bell less annoying to my co-workers than the little kitchen timer I was using. The kitchen timer works better because it ticks and I can quickly see how much time has passed, but its ring is pretty obnoxious.

Freaky Armpit Bleach Stains Explained

One of my charming new shirts was ruined by weird beach-like stains from my gel antiperspirant (Yeah, I know. I shouldn't block the sweat. Sweat is nature's perfume. Okay.). This never happened to me before and I don't want it to happen again when I use antiperspirant, so I had to do some research. At first I blamed the shirt maker for using a wimpy dye. But this article convinced me that my gel use was the culprit. It also explains that I don't have to give up the gel if I use it differently.

Air Shiraz

Tonight I took a family member to dinner at a posh local restaurant. I had a glass of Shiraz and it really seems to have altered my perception. The evening was filled with deja vu moments, maybe because it was a French restaurant or maybe because had dreamed about this dinner last night and the memories of the dream kept coming back. To make it even trippier, my dinner companion started things off with a long discussion of Inception.

I was very happy with the meal over all, although I wish I'd had the steak instead of the quail. I would love to return there and try different dishes, but even with a special summer prix fixe, one meal at this place costs the same as a weeks' worth of groceries. If I could eat alone at this place without drawing negative attention, I would go back for lunch.

I Read a Novel

I finally finished reading a novel this week. I do a lot of reading for work, but it's all non-fiction. Even my leisure reading tends to be non-fiction. The book that defied the trend was The Elegance of the Hedgehog. And I liked it.

Learning my ABCs

"A-B-C. A-Always, B-Be, C-Closing. Always be closing, always be closing."

Apparently, the ABC of meeting guys is Always Be Cute. Look as cute as possible every time you leave the house. Cute at the grocery store. Cute at the post office. Cute all the damn time. I haven't tried this yet.

Bother

It's difficult to know if pursuing romance is worth the bother when I don't even know what the bother is.

It's been over a year since I've been on a date. I haven't come up with any more ideas for meet guys other than trying a new online dating site. A friend did try to set me up with someone, but that wasn't my idea.

I have come to the conclusion that the straight, single guys between the ages of 38 and 52 who live within a 50 mile radius of mu home are not interested in me. This conclusion is not based on exhaustive research, however I can't come up with any ways to disprove this notion.

52! Let me just get this off my chest. As much as 40 year-old-guys don't want to date women over 39, I am not all fired up to date anyone much over 45. Guys, if you think we ladies all go to seed after 35 while you all ripen into Denzel Washingtons and George Clooneys, you are so very wrong. Some older guys are hot, but nobody escapes from gravity just because they have testicles. Men who don't take care of themselves look crappier as they get older. Male flab is just as flabby as female flab. Older men, your wrinkles are just as wrinkly if not more so since most of you have done next to nothing to take care of your skin. What's left of your gray hair is just as gray as ours. It is not more distinguished, it is less pigmented. If you didn't have much character or personality when you were twenty, thirty, or forty, I doubt that any extra years will turn you into a worldly sage. And one thing that certainly doesn't improve with age is your stamina. I would say, get over yourselves, but you don't have to. I guess there are plenty of younger women who are willing to ignore your overgrown ear hairs and droopy bits.

People might read this and say, "No wonder she doesn't meet guys. What a bitch. She's so mean. She doesn't appreciate droopy bits. I love droopy bits. I love reminiscing with my boyfriend's kids about 80s pop culture and swapping recipes with his ex-wives. I can't wait until my old man gets even older. I can't wait to stand by his grave and watch him decay. That will be so hot!"

I guess I am just a mean mistreater.