Losing a part of me

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  • Fast Food: A Treat, Not a Lifestyle.

    For all of the blame I put on my parents for the psychological damage that led to my obesity, there were some things that they did right. Fast food (whether it was McDonalds or Wendy’s or Harvey’s) was always a rare treat, not a regular occurrence. I have fond memories of my father taking us to Harvey’s for a hamburger and French fries and a Coke. He enjoyed it as much as we did, but it was an occasional weekend treat. Even when we were on vacation, we would eat at (slightly) healthier restaurants.

    Paper routes aside, my first job was working at a computer store called Montreal Data Products, on Mackay Street above St. Catherine Street. It was during that era that I started to go to McDonalds on my own, with my own money. I went a lot. I guess it was when I had my own disposable income (and not just my allowance) that I was able to do so, giving little heed to whether or not it was a good idea.

    I do not remember if I ever told my parents that I was doing this, but I do know that had they told me it was a bad idea it would have encouraged me to go more. Remember the psychological trauma I experienced at the hands (both figurative and literal) of my mother? By the time I was fourteen (which is when I started working) I was rebelling. I remember the last time my mother raised a hand to me, I raised mine back at her. I was done doing as I was told for fear of being hit. Unfortunately, there are no good lessons to tell a fourteen-year-old boy making that transition how to differentiate between what is good for you and what is not.

    When I was living in Tel Aviv, I worked at a t-shirt and army supply store in Tel Aviv that catered to tourists, and right downstairs from our store (in Dizengoff Centre) was a McDonalds, and I ate there more than occasionally, switching it out for a few other fast-food restaurants in the area. Eventually, a Thai sandwich shop opened down the block, and they made a spectacular chicken sandwich which may not have been truly healthy but was certainly much more so than. McDonalds.

    I spent a couple of years eating kosher, so most fast-food restaurants were off limits. Toward the end of my military service, probably the last two or three months, I started to hitch a ride down from my post in the Golan Heights to a bus station which had a McDonalds in it, and I probably did this 2-3 nights per week. By this time, I had grown to hate Army food, and while there were other options, not many of them were as convenient. There was also a girl I was flirting with who worked at the army supplies store next door, so that probably played a part to my frequency there.

    My return to civilian life and Canada made much more and much more unhealthy fast foods so readily available. I always preferred either a Montreal smoked meat sandwich with French fries or a large plate of Buffalo wings over a burger… not to mention that the pizza in Montreal is absolutely incredible.

    If you want to know how I came to be disgustingly fat, here is your answer. I love a good steak, and I do not need or want any sauce on it, which means it is healthy. I don’t need a giant baked potato next to it. All of this to say that a good steak dinner is not entirely fattening… assuming that whatever negative health effects that may bring on, it is still healthier than any of the fast foods that I mentioned. I became fat off of fast food and an overabundance of junk food snacks, ranging from chips to chocolates to gummies and G-d knows what else.

    Is fast food evil? Of course not. Should it be part of your healthy diet? No. As with everything else in life, it is fine… in moderation. If someone makes fast food (all of them are terribly unhealthy, but some are worse than others) an occasional treat with an otherwise healthy diet, they will not balloon up to 300+ pounds. If, on the other hand, the fast food becomes your daily routine, then you are going to pay for it in the end. Weight gain is not the only ill-effect either. Expect to see your cholesterol raised and your blood pressure and all manner of other body measurements that your doctor tracks.

    One of the problems with fast foods is that not only are they tasty, but they can also be addictive. Aside from the salt (which is certainly a substance that our body craves), most fast foods contain myriad other chemicals, and once we are used to them, our body craves them. Additionally, the large chains spend billions of dollars on feeding those cravings. McDonalds’ colour scheme is not what it is because Ray Kroc loved orange and yellow and red; they have scientific findings that prove that these colours make you hungry and lower your inhibitions which might allow you to order the extra-large fries or the ten-piece nuggets instead of the six-piece nuggets.

    The fast food industry chains (not only McDonalds… all of the chains) have marketing budgets that could cure hunger in the third world, and they spend that money every year reminding you that you deserve a break today, or you can have it your way, or they will deliver in 30-minutes or it’s free, or they have the meats, or whatever the ad campaign might be to get you through their doors, or dialing their numbers. Of course, if you deserved a break yesterday, don’t you deserve one today too?

    If you find yourself eating more fast food than you did when you were younger, these are just some of the reasons.

    The goal of my weight loss routine is not only to lose the weight, but also to get healthier, and to change my eating habits. I know that I need to change my unhealthy relationship with food. This is going to mean, when I am off the extreme program, that I will be cooking for myself most days, with the occasional restaurant indulgence. More often than not, that restaurant indulgence should still be something healthier. You can eat healthy at a Chinese restaurant, but most of the foods that I like there are wok fried and battered in sauce, which means they are poor choices. Sushi, on the other hand, is a much healthier choice. I believe that when you look at a piece of food and you can easily identify all of the individual ingredients by sight then you are likely eating something healthier than something that is unrecognizable.

    Does this mean that I will never eat fast food again? Probably not. I am sure that there will be times when I am on the road, when I know that I have been eating well and exercising and staying in shape when I might allow myself to indulge. With that said, it has to be a treat, and never a lifestyle.

    I confess I have never watched that movie about the guy who only ate McDonalds for a year. I do not know what the outcome was, and I do not particularly care. All of our bodies are different, and I know that eating fast foods (what my grandfather would have referred to as dreck) is bad for me and will cause me to return to my previous (current, but hopefully soon it will be previous!) morbidly obese size. I do not want that. I also do not want my doctor to ever have to tell me ‘Okay, now that you have had a heart attack, this is how you have to start eating.’

    Conclusion

    The occasional hamburger and fries will not cause morbid obesity. In fact, it is relatively simple to make a hamburger and French fries healthy, or at least less fattening. The burger and fries that I would make at home would almost certainly be tastier and would most certainly be healthier than anything I get from a fast-food burger joint. However, it is not only the food that is addictive, but also the convenience that draws us. We live in a hustle and bustle world of in which two-parent families have two parents in the workforce, and so many single parents have to struggle to fit everything into the day, and the time spent shopping, preparing, cooking, and then cleaning for and after a meal can be cut into a fraction by ordering in or taking out. Single people know that it is no fun preparing food for one, and the convenience of take-out is a draw… especially when you do not even have to get out of your car to grab dinner on the way home.

    While the convenience is a draw, we have to consider the negative health effects (both short term and long term) of these unhealthy food choices. When we do, hopefully we will make them far less frequently than we do today… and just maybe the chains who spend billions to lure you in through their doors will have less money to spend on marketing.

  • Day 21

    Today is the last day of Week 3. How amazing is it that I have gotten here? I have so much farther to go… but I am nearly thirty pounds lighter today than I was the morning of Day 1. The is two Princess Sophies!

    As I was chatting with Leslie last night, I decided that the button-down shirt that I was so happy to wear would go into a pile for charity. The colours were a bit faded, the buttonholes were a bit stretched (a sure sign that someone who it borderline fits has been wearing it around a very large stomach), and it could go to someone who will need it more than I need it.

    The problem is that when I went into my closet this morning to find another button-down shirt, I did not find another that fits. In a few weeks, maybe, but not now. I do suspect that the one shirt that I bought since I am in Canada – the shirt that I bought to wear to my father’s unveiling – will fit, but that is folded, and for whatever reason, I did not wear it today.

    Leslie also pointed out last night that some of my writing – specifically, the one I wrote yesterday about junk food – has a negative tone to it, and she asked me if I did it intentionally. I do not know that I do, but I am certainly not the type to pussy-foot around a subject. When I am doing something wrong, I do not want someone to take five minutes laying several layers of feathers and pillows down before they tell me what is wrong – tell me, and I’ll get over it. It is the sentiment that matters to me, and the don’t-want-to-hurt-your-feelings padding is, for me, both extraneous and condescending. If I am fat then I am fat, don’t call me Rubenesque; if I pigged out on junk food do not tell me that I was making up for whatever, just say that I pigged out. I understand that in this day and age, where feelings matter and everyone is going to be offended by something, you have to sugar-coat anything that might be negative… well not for me. That’s why I write in the tone that I do, especially when the person whose transgressions I am calling out are mine. That is one of the ways that I will remember to not do it again.

    Last night’s evening snack was the last of the American shakes, and so for this morning’s breakfast I am drinking the first Canadian shake I have had in over three years. I am shocked by the difference. I had once lived off the Canadian shakes for twelve weeks, and I have had many of the American shakes… I had just never had two (essentially) one after the other. The Canadian shake is much richer and creamier than the American counterpart. While it was a surprise and something to get used to, it is not at all unpleasant. I will make a point to add more water to the mix going forward… the more of it that I drink, the more I feel I have consumed… even when the calories are the same.

    Either my progress is too slow, or I am too impatient. I knew yesterday that when the numbers on the scale had not moved below those of the previous day that today’s measurements would be much better. They were… but I was hoping for more. This early in the program it should not be unreasonable to still enjoy a one-pound-per-day loss, as I did in my previous two attempts. Looking at my previous journal, on Day 22 I was down 34 lbs, and I am nowhere near that. Of course, I was sticking to the program religiously last time, rather than the hybrid program I am enjoying this go around. Which is better? I suspect the way I am doing it now is likely more conducive to long-term sustainability. We will see. As I wrote a few days ago, a huge key to that long-term success is going to be psychological and keeping my mind healthy. Anima sana in corpore sano.

    Lyle and Cam came over for cigars yesterday. I am always happy to have friends over. Lyle knows about my weight loss program, but Cam does not. On their way here they stopped at a fast-food restaurant, and Cam brought his hamburger to eat here. I got him settled on the balcony where he started to eat, and I busied myself around the house, making the excuse that I was taking time to select the exact right cigar (I had made that determination hours earlier) before finally going outside. He had a couple of bites left, most of which he shared with Princess Sophie. I know that it is not his job to police or even to be mindful of my diet, and I do not think he did anything wrong. I just do not want to be exposed to the temptations.

    This afternoon, Eduardo is coming for a cigar, and the weather is shaping up to be the nicest day of the week. He is coming around 2:00pm, but I am almost certainly going to get a head start on him!

    Have a great day folks!

  • Addictions and Gluttony

    This comic was delivered to my inbox this morning.

    Candy Polyamory – The Oatmeal

    How many times have I felt this? How often have I bought a large bag of chips or chocolates (by coincidence, I would usually go for the Peanut M&Ms that are depicted in the comic) and enjoy them… alone. I would go through an entire bag of them without batting an eyelash. I am trying to think if I had any shame about it. The truth is, if I bought the bag to take home, I would eat them alone.  If I bought them for the car, then I was usually alone in the car.

    One of the main characters in one of the greatest TV shows of all time, The West Wing, was Leo McGarry, the White House Chief of Staff, is a recovering alcoholic. He often makes mention that he doesn’t want one drink, he wants ten… and in one of the flashback scenes in which he fell off the wagon, you see him drinking alone, having emptied the minibar of all of the booze in his hotel room.

    I am not that bad, that I would eat every candy… but I do not have to think that far back when I last drove (alone) from my home in Burlington, Ontario to visit friends in Montreal (about a six hour drive). Knowing that chips and candies were cheaper at the supermarket than they were at gas stations and other stops along the way, I bought two large bags of chips, and another large bag of Peanut M&Ms. Having an open bag of chips on the passenger seat was easy, as long as I made sure to pay Princess Sophie her Snacks-Tax. I cannot say for sure that the first bag of chips was finished by the time I crossed the Greater Toronto Area (maybe a 90 minute drive), but I do know that more than one full bag of chips and the entire bag of chocolates were gone by the time I got to Montreal. I made sure to hide the evidence – the discarded wrappers would be in the garbage bag, that was then disposed of at my earliest opportunity. If someone did get into the car (or just stuck their head in for whatever reason) I did not want them seeing that I polished off however much I had eaten.

    I have to constantly remind myself that food is an addiction. The problem is that it is also a necessity of life. You cannot live without eating, but eating too much can eventually kill you. What a quandary. Making the right choices for the rest of my life will have to be an absolute constant. Does that mean I won’t be able to have a bag of chips? No… but knowing my addiction and predilection for gluttony, I will buy the SMALL bag of chips, not the large one. I will buy the SMALL portion of chocolate, not the bag labeled ‘Family Size’ or ‘Sharing Pack’. I will buy the single bag.

    I have often found myself in the chips aisle thinking to myself: “I cannot decide if I would rather the Regular Ruffles, or the Miss Vickie Salt & Vinegar… I guess I’ll just buy both.” I cannot do that! I have to pick one… and while it is always going to be much more costly, I will buy those smaller portions at retailers where they have the smaller size, rather than buying from the supermarket, where the larger sizes are encouraged (and the individual sizes are nowhere to be found).

    Family Size, Party Size, Sharing Size… all crap. These are euphemisms for Gluttony Size, and I’m not having it… anymore.

  • Day 20

    My cheats yesterday included the last of the almonds, and a bit of cheese. I had two bits of cheese in the fridge when the diet started, and I realized that while one of them was sealed and new, the other was not sealed at all, and had grown moldy. I decided to cut away the mold and what was left was about an ounce of aged sharp cheddar. I enjoyed it, after paying the Cheese Tax to Princess Sophie.

    Speaking with Leslie last night, I decided that this morning I would go into my closet and try to find a button-down shirt that might fit. I have several that were candidates, but different companies cut their 3XL shirts differently. The first, a branded Microsoft Server shirt, did not fit. I decided on a shirt that has a cute pattern but does not have the vibrant colours that it did when it was new. I am expert at many things, but laundry is not one of them.

    Today is my appointment with my family doctor, and I plan to discuss my weight loss program and progress with him. In two or three weeks I will be able to get onto his scale to get an accurate reading, but I am reasonably sure that today I still weigh more than the maximum capacity. I am embarrassed by that, but optimistic for the day when that will no longer be true. I know that day is not far off. I plan to ask him to see me every few weeks to check in. While he is not a bariatric or weight-management doctor, he is willing to see me in person, and he has known me personally for many years. I am going to try for a semi-weekly cadence… for my American readers, no there will be absolutely no cost to me for these visits. (For my Canadian readers, who as fellow taxpayers are subsidizing these visits, remember that these visits are an investment in my weight loss, and it is in the service of not needing much more expensive treatment at a later date.)

    I was speaking with my friend/cleaning lady yesterday. She has also had weight struggles for much of her life, and she was telling me about a class she had taken – really weight management support groups – in which she was the only one who was there to get help losing weight. Most of the people there were either anorexic or bulimic or whatever and were trying to learn to eat properly to gain weight. This is not a problem that I have ever had to contend with, but it is important to remember that if there are extremes on one side then there are extremes on the other.

    (I should mention that if ever I thought that I was in the extreme overweight category then a simple trip to most any WalMart store in the US will remind me how wrong I am… but that does not mean that I should not work my tail off to lose the weight.)

    —

    I am back from speaking with my doctor, and we have come up with a visit schedule. I will go every two weeks, alternating between just seeing the nurse to get weighed, and actually seeing him. He knows that accountability is a huge help for my weight-loss and is going to support me completely. We broached the subject of a weight management clinic that I used to be a patient at. While they were good at what they did (education and accountability), they are currently not doing in-person visits, only telemedicine. Add to that the fact that unlike my family physician, you seldom saw the same doctor at that clinic, and I do not feel that marking numbers on a chart makes me accountable. He (my doctor) has been my doctor for fifteen years, and there is a personal connection which helps; I cannot pull the wool over his eyes, and he cares about me as a person, rather than as a generic patient file.

    A buddy is coming for a cigar this afternoon, and I look forward to shooting the breeze with him. He is one of my closer friends and sitting on the patio with him is always enjoyable. He has some errands to run first, so I will likely get a head start after my 1:30pm bowl of soup.

    Have a great day!

  • Psychology, and taking responsibility for one’s own life

    There is a quote from The West Wing that “…Presidential elections are won and lost on one square foot of real estate.” (Meaning in one’s head). It occurred to me this morning that weight loss succeeds or fails in one’s head.

    Outside of the Army and my mother’s house (which was stricter and louder), nobody has ever held a gun to my head and forced me to eat. All of my food choices have been mine, and they were just that: choices. How many times could I have made a healthier choice instead of an unhealthy one? Could I have decided to not go for that second (or third) serving at the all-you-can-eat buffet? How many times should I have opted for the salad instead of the French fries, or ten wings instead of twenty (or thirty)? How many bags of chips should I have poured one small portion from and then sealed, rather than eating out of (and finishing) the bag… or should have not bought in the first place?

    Some of these choices were made out of ignorance. More were made because psychologically I was not strong enough to make smarter, healthier, better choices. Yes, I probably rebelled against the Army’s discipline when I was discharged, and I went on an uncontrolled eating frenzy. That frenzy lasted what – seven years before I first tried to do something about it? Something like that. For one who is (in so many respects) so strong, it is a disaster that I could not have picked myself up by the bootstraps and stopped the unrestrained gluttony sooner. Let’s review:

    When I was engaged to my first wife, I started on Weight Watchers. By the time she left me I had lost nearly forty pounds. The first meeting after she left, I walked out in disgust after my weigh-in and never went back. It was not until years later that I found out that the facilitators really dropped the ball and were supposed to call me to after I missed one or two meetings. I will not blame them… but maybe two weeks after my separation I might have been in a better state of mind to get back onto the program.

    I do not think that I had a slip after my separation from my second wife, mostly because I was very active in Taekwondo. I was teaching several nights per week, which kept me in pretty good shape. About a year later, I had my final showdown with my mother, which prompted me to reevaluate many aspects of my life. I will not spend any time on the long-term emotional trauma inflicted upon me by my abusive mother; suffice it to say that I had an epiphany, realizing that if I was ever going to be a good person, I had to unlearn a lot of the behaviours and attitudes that she had taught me were normal. A few days later, on a day when I was particularly vulnerable because of the sheer immensity of the changes that I would have to make, my GrandMaster (who I suspect was also having a particularly bad day) yelled at me inappropriately, causing me to walk out… and I have not returned to that club since. Owing to the sudden lack of exercise, I started to gain weight again.

    In 2017 I started the program for the first time, with a medical (non-surgical) bariatric program. I lost a tremendous amount of weight. While I slipped back a little from October through January, I was back on track, losing weight at a respectable pace. I am not sure how much of that slipping was due to my mother’s diagnosis with brain cancer. Around the time I started regaining the weight, friends convinced me (against my will and better judgment) to visit her in the hospital. I went the day that she went in (for the last time) and stood there making small talk. She was a grandmaster in the art of the backhanded compliment, and even as she lay there on what was probably her deathbed, she complimented my sweater… and told me how lovely it would look if I just lost some weight. I was sixty pounds lighter than the last time she had seen me, and I had just lost a hundred pounds. Grandmaster indeed.

    Over the course of the next few months, I drove to Montreal almost every weekend to see her. I watched this once powerful and mighty force degenerate before my eyes. I told her one day that I forgave her. I said it to put her mind at ease. I was lying. I did not forgive her what she had done to me, and despite years of therapy, I do not know if I ever will. My weight crept up throughout that time, despite a couple of efforts to control it.

    And then she died.

    I always had an extremely complicated relationship with my mother, but her death essentially put an end to her and I ever being able to resolve things. I suppose it would have been nice had she, even lying on her deathbed, apologized, or taken responsibility. Now that would never happen… could never happen. Over the course of the next year and a half, my weight was back up to where I had started.

    I tried again… and while there were bumps along the road, I got back onto the program in July 2019. By October 2020 I was the lowest weight I had been in nearly two decades. My weight valleyed below what it had been when my first wife left me. And then it started creeping back up. It took time to get to bad, but from bad to worse was again due to psychological and emotional losses and traumas. My father died, and I shot up another forty pounds. My sudden and unexpected return to Canada, and I shot up another forty pounds. Relationship trauma, another twenty pounds… and I realized I was at my heaviest weight ever, and nearly 130 lbs up from my best. Not all because of psychological trauma and issues… but a lot of.

    It would be easy to blame my mother, my ex-wife, my Army trauma, and so many others for my weight gain. Everyone suffers psychological trauma, and it is how they deal with it that matters. I dealt with my trauma poorly. I am not going to say that there were no worse ways for me to deal, but the long-term effects on my weight and health are obvious. I can blame others, but the buck stops here. The responsibility lies with me, and nobody else.

    Owning one’s own shortcomings is never easy. It is so much easier to lay the blame on others. How could that possibly help me to lose the weight and to keep it off? If I blame anyone or everyone else, then the next time I am slim and suffer a trauma I will have the easy out… I can eat to my heart’s content, gain as much weight as I do, and it will be someone else’s fault… but the consequences are mind and mine alone, so in the end, that is not a healthy way to deal with it. Taking responsibility for one’s own actions and state and course means that there is nobody to blame for where I am going; I am at the helm of my own future, and no matter what external voices may tell me, I can lose the weight and keep it off because turning to food and especially to unhealthy foods is an obstacle to avoid, but when I am at the wheel then I can do it without listening to the voices telling me to eat.

    I am not writing any mantras to recite, I just have to remember every day to do as well as I can… and that slipping one day does not mean I have to go down the slope, it only means that I have to redouble my efforts to stop my fall, and to get back up again.

  • Day 19

    While I worked most of the weekend, I did have a friend over for a cigar on the balcony yesterday. It was a beautiful and sunny day, and he and I (and Princess Sophie) were able to enjoy it to the fullest.

    I had a real non-scale victory last night. Yesterday evening, while video-chatting with Leslie, I decided I wanted to try on the pants that I had put aside with the tag ‘Try again February 10.’ She was so happy for me that they fit! It wasn’t like ‘OMG if I hold my stomach in as much as I can then maybe with a crowbar and a cinch, I will be able to close them… barely’ either… I am wearing them comfortably today. So many of my NSVs will revolve around clothes, and that is just fine by me. The fit of a shirt or a pair of pants can be a much more visible and tangible sign of improvement than numbers on a scale.

    It was great to spend time with my sons on Saturday. Sunday evening my phone rang, and on the other end was a screaming child. My poor son (the younger) was having a terrible meltdown and was in an uncontrollable hysteria. My poor son (the elder) and his mother were trying to settle things, and one of them thought that speaking to me might help. I am more than a little ashamed to say that I am familiar with such tantrums firsthand, having had similar issues myself as a child. Where my older son thought that I might be able to soothe and calm his brother, I was much more effective in counselling him, and explaining to him why he had to take a step back. His mother, who was listening the whole time, must have worked hard to keep her jaw from falling, and likely wished that I had been so wise with my counsel and my child (as well as adult) psychology when we were married. The regrets I have from my years married to her, and from all of the years that I have been a father, will be a shadow over my soul until the day that I die. If only I had a time machine…

    I stuck to the program pretty well throughout the day; being able to smoke two cigars certainly helped, as did the fact that I was busy working from morning to night. I enjoyed my chicken and salad for dinner, and I enjoyed my regular meal replacements the rest of the time. I do not think I even had any almonds.

    This morning, after dealing with a client issue where the sky was falling, I picked my friend/cleaning lady up from the train station and asked if she minded that we make a quick stop at the supermarket, where I picked up chicken and lettuce. As we walked into the house, she asked me if I had given up on my diet program. I was able to excitedly share that not only had I not given up, but I was doing really well on it. I showed her the bins into which I sorted all of my ‘not yet’ clothes and showed off that as of last night I no longer have a ‘try on soon’ shelf. She is a good friend and has always been very supportive with my weight loss… although she is also happy to help me enjoy an all-you-can-eat sushi meal when I am not watching my weight!

    Today’s work, now that the worst of the fire has been contained, consists mainly of watching numbers go up and make sure that they do not crash, which means that while I cannot be far from my computer, I can be on the balcony with a cigar after my lunch… which will start in just a few minutes.

    Have a great day!

  • Day 18

    The nearly one-pound that I was heavier on the bathroom scale this morning can easily be attributed to the unevenness of the floor, or that I did not weigh myself at the same time this morning, or simply to the fact that weigh-ins are not meant to be every day, and there are occasional blips on an otherwise downward trend. Or, maybe it is because I ate more than I should have. The chicken quarters were much smaller than usual, so I prepared two of them. The salad was larger than the day before. Nonetheless, I cannot imagine that even if I ate 1,500 calories instead of the 1,000 that I had estimated a couple of days ago that I should have gained any weight from it. No, I think it is just a blip on the chart, and tomorrow will be back on track.

    My son (the younger) wanted pizza and wings for dinner, and that is what he got… munching happily on them as I sat and observed. We then watched a movie, and the popcorn he was enjoying smelled just lovely. I took a handful of almonds to cover my hunger. Later in the evening I had a shake, knowing that I am down to three apple cinnamon bars, and that even when they do arrive at Leslie’s, they will take as much as a week to ten days to arrive. I have to ration them!

    While I still have a couple of boxes of both of the soups, I opened the last box of American chocolate shake meal replacements yesterday. That is not a big deal – I have several boxes of the Canadian shakes for when they are done. In a few days’ time I will be making the switch from the American shakes (160 calories) to the Canadian shakes (225 calories), which means I will have to make some adjustments to my routine. Something like:

    9:00am: Morning shake (225)

    1:00pm Lunch soup (160)

    5:00pm Evening meal (450)

    9:30pm Evening snack (160)

    That will bring me to 995 calories per day, certainly a reasonable diet/hybrid program plan. I will try it for a few days, and if I have to make any adjustments then I will.

    The forecast for the week is lovely, for those of us looking to sit outside in a heated balcony smoking cigars. Starting today, the high temperatures will be between -1°C and 3°C every day through Sunday (when it drops again) which means that as long as I am bundled up and have the heater going, I will be able to smoke all week. Remember, cigar smoking may not be an addiction, but it is certainly a distraction that has, on many occasions, prevented me from snacking. Of course, if I were not trying to maintain ketosis, I would be inclined to enjoy a scotch or some other fine spirit as I indulged… but for me that is not a requirement (or even a strong temptation) and pairing a cigar with a good cup of coffee is just as appetizing to me. I’ve a very good selection of both Cubans and non-Cubans to keep me satisfied for the week (I could smoke a cigar every day for the next year and still have plenty left over), but today a friend is coming over, and we told me that he wants to bring me a cigar. The gracious host never says no to a gifted cigar! The coffee will be brewed, and should he desire a dram then he is welcome to one. I will stick to my coffee.

    As a mental note, I should remember to have my meal replacement before he arrives. While I am not hiding it, I do not particularly want to discuss my diet plans with anyone. He is set to arrive between 1:30-2:00pm, which is perfect. Have a great day!

  • Tempting or Not

    My son (the younger) came over this evening, as he does once a fortnight. Tonight’s choice was Little Caesar (pizza and wings). Tempting? Yes. Did I? No. The pizza had pepperoni, and while I used to love pepperoni on my pizza, my religious evolution would preclude me from eating that today. The wings were barbecue, which may be good, but are not the flavour I would drool over. Frankly, as we watched his movie (a Thomas the Tank Engine movie) his popcorn was more of a temptation than the other bits. I did grab a handful of almonds. I will be glad to have them out of the house (when the last handful has been consumed). I will not be replenishing that stock.

  • Day 17

    My unreliably measured weight loss continues at a steady pace, and I am happy for that. I really do wish that I could be certain of the exact numbers on the scale, but I am not willing to move out of my apartment just to be able to weigh myself properly. Maybe when they re-open I will join a health club that has a reliable scale. Of course, the scale would not be the biggest benefit to joining a gym.

    Knowing that I cannot rely on my weigh-ins, I am forced to focus on something that is probably more important… if more difficult to chart. Non-scale victories (NSVs) are those things you notice have improved, or that you are able to do now that you could not do before. For example, wearing certain shirts without my belly showing will be a non-scale victory. Being able to comfortably wear the pants that I set aside to ‘try on again in a few weeks’ will be a non-scale victory. No longer being able to wear my larger pants because they fall right off will be a non-scale victory.

    Those are all quantifiable non-scale victories… and I while have not yet achieved any of them, I know that I am close. The shirt that I put on this morning still reveals my belly… but not nearly as much. I also feel that the pair of jeans I put on are a bit loose on me, and I needed to notch-up my belt in order to hold them up. I am likely a week or two away from wearing a pair of pants that did not fit me last week during ‘The Great Sorting,’ but any improvement is improvement.

    What are unquantifiable non-scale victories is that I am having an easier time of walking Princess Sophie… and it is no longer so painful to bend down and clean up after her (you know what I mean… don’t make me say it!). I spent about thirty minutes reorganizing my humidor this morning, which while I enjoy it, does take a toll on my knees and on my back. Today, it was much less an effort than it had been.

    Until I am able to reliably weigh myself, I am going to be satisfied with the non-scale victories. After all, those are really more important. How I feel, how well I am able to breathe and walk and bend down are what matter. Yes, I want to fit into my smaller clothes, so that is also important… but I am turning 50 years old in July, and I have to start paying closer attention to my health.

    Last night, I enjoyed my first meal in a little over two weeks. I prepared a piece of chicken and a salad. I might have over-seasoned the chicken, and it was amazing. It spent twenty-five minutes cooking in the air fryer, and then another ten minutes sitting patiently (in the same place) while I finished my phone call. I also prepared a salad – romaine lettuce base, with a slice of Vidalia onion, half of a vine-ripened tomato, one third of a cucumber, and a tablespoon of pumpkin seeds, then a teaspoon of sesame oil, and a few shakes of balsamic vinegar. It all comes out to about 400 calories, which is quite reasonable, especially since I only had three meal replacements and a handful of almonds yesterday. My daily intake was less than 1000 calories.

    Going forward, I will be having a similar meal every day. I do not want to fall off the program, but I am going to try the hybrid approach. Julie (my diet buddy) and I spoke last night, and she agrees that it is not a bad idea. With her hoping to visit Florida for Spring Break (she is a teacher), she told me she is going to stay the course with the program as best she can… although she has been having difficulties. I have already mentioned how much more difficult it is to do the program when you have teenagers in the house. It must be so much harder still when you are the one responsible for putting food on their plate. I do not envy her.

    I did not sleep well last night. Princess Sophie woke me up twice in the night – both times less than an hour after I had finally fallen asleep. The first time I took her out for a walk, the second time I coaxed her back into bed. I know my girl, and while she would have peed had we gone outside, it would have been minimal… and the effort of getting dressed and going, then settling back in (when it might take me another three hours to fall asleep again) was not worth the entertainment value to my girl who was just bored.

    I am working today but will make the time to take my meal replacements… one of which is due right now. Have a great day!

  • Golf Can Be Exercise… or not.

    About eighteen months ago I started golfing again. In fact, I became a very frequent golfer, often playing 5-6 times per week. I would either play with friends, or I would go to the course and let them pair me with someone new. It was quite relaxing, and very enjoyable. With very few exceptions, I would take a cart, and I would smoke a cigar (or two… or three) throughout the course of the eighteen holes.

    I have heard people argue as to the legitimacy of golf as a sport, and I think that is a silly argument. Of course golf is a sport. Whether or not it is exercise though… that is a different question.

    This is what I looked in in October 2020!Leading up to my return to golf in October 2020 I was either walking or jogging up to ten miles per day. When I started golfing (which was usually a 5-6 hour commitment) that ended, and it should not have but it did. I figured that if my fitness watch was registering over 10,000 steps per day when golfing, then I was fine. When I realized that driving the cart registered a lot of those steps, I should have immediately gone back to proper exercising… I did not, and over the next couple of months my weight crept… and then slid… and then completely fell off a cliff, and I was back to my heaviest weight ever.

    I want to be clear (I say that a lot) that eating has more to do with my terrible weight gain than did the exercise… but when I am in an exercise routine, I am focusing on my health and improving it. I know that if I am walking or jogging, for example, if I have a heavy meal then I will feel sluggish walking or jogging the next day. I watch my speed and distance when walking and jogging (using a combination of apps and other technologies), and I like to compete with myself to best my previous records – either weekly or monthly records, and sometimes my best-ever records. When I cheat, the results are immediate. I might jog a mile a minute or more slower than I had the previous day… and that is no way to best a record.

    It is a slippery slope that starts and ends with what you eat (and drink). There are, however, factors that can make you forget the dangers of ‘just this once’ or ‘I’ll just have a little.’ Coming off the golf course, I knew that when I got home, I would immediately have to take Princess Sophie to the park. I remember the first time I decided to stop at the supermarket on my way home to pick up a sandwich to eat in the car. I felt guilty as I sat there and ate it, however good it was. In fact, I likely took one of the slices of bread off and threw it away, so I was eating the sandwich open-faced, meaning less starchy bread. I probably did it again a few days later, and then again, and at some point, I stopped eating them open-faced. By that point, why not just have their delicious fried chicken? After all, the sandwich cost $5.99 and the eight pieces of fried chicken was only a couple of dollars more… and I would get two meals out of it. That’s how diets collapse.

    I was doing so well. In September 2020 I was at the lowest weight I had been in twenty years… and then it fell apart. By January 2022 I was at the heaviest weight I had been in my life. I did not get fat again because of golf. There were myriad life stresses going on through that fifteen-month period that all contributed to it, and there were two virtual launch spots for my falling off – one was the sudden passing of my father, and the other was my sudden relocation back to Canada. Had I still been exercising when my dad died, I might have taken the week off for the shiva but resumed right afterwards. Had I still been exercising when I came to Canada, I would have continued to do so here… and likely would not have made the myriad poor food choices that I did when eating out.

    If you have ever lived through a Canadian winter, then you know that starting a workout routine in the dead of winter is not the easiest thing to do. If you have lived through a Canadian winter during a pandemic where gyms and fitness centres are all closed, then you’ll know it is that much harder. I am not going easy on myself; I will continue my diet and I will lose enough weight so that by the time the snow is melted (and there is no risk of ice on the sidewalk) I will be able to start going on serious walks, and eventually starting to jog. As I have always done, I do not want to start jogging until I am below a certain weight, for fear of doing real damage to my knees.

    Yes, when the weather gets nicer, I will start golfing again. I do miss the Southern California climes in which I was able to golf year-round… but here I am, and I will settle for a May-October golf schedule. By the time I do get my first round of the season in, I would like to be fitting into some of the nicer (smaller) golf shirts that I sorted by size last week, and not the XXXL shirts that I know fit now.

    FORE!