Losing a part of me

On the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month the guns fell silent for the last time.

Not quite.

This morning I eschewed my regular fedora, deciding instead to wear my military cover. I did not expect anyone to recognize it for what it was, although one fellow dog walker commented that it was an interesting hat. As she often does, Princess Sophie decided to stop and play with Davey as the kids waited for their school bus. One kid (maybe nine or ten years old) said ‘That one minute of silence… it feels like ten hours!’ I wanted to tell him about my friends, boys really not that much older than him, who were silenced forever. I wanted to tell him how ten hours of constant explosions can feel like a minute… and an eternity.

Last night I folded my laundry and had a bittersweet moment. Knowing that tomorrow will be the last day with a forecast high of double digits for several months, I separated my golf shirts (which are the main component of my summer wardrobe) from my long sleeve shirts and put them into a drawer. Among those that went away for the season are several that I will likely never wear again, having shrunk out of them. I have been wearing mostly XXL shirts for the few months, but there were (until last night) two 3XL shirts in my rotation: a purple one that I always loved, and a pink one that has always been Leslie’s favourite. Come spring, most of the shirts that I put away last night will likely be given to charity. The purple one will go for sure. Leslie will not let me get rid of that pink shirt, no matter what. As strange as this might sound for a golf shirt, I might try to get it tailored down to size. We’ll see. Maybe it will just live in my drawer forever, or when I finally move to Dallas, hanging in our closet.

It feels really good to be shrinking out of my clothes. I am really looking forward to the day when even the custom-tailored suits that I have been waiting for be able to wear, which were bought when I was at my lowest weight of the last twenty-five years, no longer fit and have to be either put away or given to charity. Even though when I look at myself in the mirror, I still see a morbidly obese reflection of myself, both the numbers on the scale and the fit of my clothes are good indicators of the tremendous progress I have made. The reflection looking back at me? That is a morphing of the road I have ahead, and the psychological damage of a kid who would never be good enough.

I did my first full workout with Kezi yesterday, and yes, I did all of the warmups before starting. Today is our next workout, and I will once again do all of my warmups. I promise. I swear. Prior to the workout, I decided to pick up a handful of dried apricots, which gave me the carbohydrates to fuel the workout. Honestly, I do not know if the carbs work or not, but I ate them, I enjoyed them, and I will do the same today. As it was, I was feeling a bit dizzy and light-headed during the workout, which is most likely due to my low blood pressure. I do not want to make it worse by not having the fuel to keep me going.

One thing I asked Kezi to adjust going forward. The workout that we did yesterday was mostly with free weights. I told her that if we would be working out together long term that would be fine, I feel that for my program to be sustainable for the long term, we should focus on the machines. We have five more workouts together, and the reason I paid for the package was because I want to know the best way to work out alone. I think the machines are a much smarter way for me to go than trying to remember every workout with free weights, especially knowing that I don’t know if my form is right or not. She told me she understands and will adjust her plans for us accordingly. I am looking forward to seeing how that plays out today.

The only cheat on my program yesterday was the dozen dried apricots, and the numbers on the scale reflected that. My bathroom scale this morning read 303.0 lbs. which puts me back into the best-weight-ever territory (by only 0.2 lb.) . After my workout yesterday, the needle on the scale at the club read 299 lbs., making it the first time I have registered under 300 pounds since February 17, 2021. Of course, the post-workout weigh-in may feel good, but it is meaningless for me. The only weigh-ins that count are my morning weigh-ins, and the only ones that I actually register in this journal consistently are the semi-weekly weigh-ins at my doctor’s office. The next one of those is on Wednesday, November 23. I hope by then to drop from 139kg to 136kg… 299.8 lbs., with my clothes on.

If 2022 will truly be the year I lose 50kg, then as of my last weigh-in I am still 10kg (about 22 lbs.) from that goal, and I have less than two months to achieve it. The 100 lbs. loss is certainly achievable, as I am only about 8 lbs. shy of that number. Losing eight pounds in seven weeks is absolutely achievable. Losing 22 lbs. in the same seven weeks? I am going to try my best, but I will not be terribly upset if I fall slightly shy of that number. If I do, then I will settle for losing fifty kilograms in 365 days, which gives me until January 20 to do it. I am still going to try to get there by December 31 though!

I do not know why I agreed to an 11am workout on Remembrance Day, but I did. We will have to start a couple of minutes late, as I will observe my minutes of silence. I do not expect those around me to, but it would be nice if they did. I know that my wife is thinking about me today. She has already told me that she is thinking about me and my service this morning. I have not responded, but I will call her right now.

Have a great day folks!