Living Large

It starts off slow at first. Maybe we stop going to the gym, stop running every day. A new job occupies our time, and though we try to exercise a little each day on our own, after a few weeks other things overshadow that. Getting home at a normal time means more leisure time, more movies to see, shows to watch, and games to play. It’s like life has doubled, and we bask in new found pockets of time. Happiness breeds comfort, comfort leads to a sedentary existence, and we forget about our weight. Then one morning, while putting on one’s jacket, one’s mom might reach over, pat our belly, and ask when the baby is due.

That’s not the first time I’ve heard that witticism, but it’s been a few years at least. I’ve gotten comfortable and soft in my new life, and I haven’t stepped on a scale since August. My clothes still fit, but some shirts fit better than others. I’m sure I’ve passed the 200 mark, but I’m not about to check. This happens every year around this time. Just as our stray cat has a thick coat of fur to protect himself against the cold, I’ve apparently grown an extra layer or two of stomach and chest. Isn’t nature grand?

In the past, the Winter and the holidays took their toll, and while I was eating more and gaining weight, I was still trucking three miles a day on a treadmill. Now, there’s almost no cardiovascular balance in my life. There are no stairs in my main office building, and it takes less than five minutes to get from my car to my desk. After the “honeymoon” period of light assignments ended, I spent more time at my computer and less time getting coffee and familiarizing myself with new hallways. I wake up, sit in a car, sit at a desk, sit in a deli, sit at a desk again, sit in my car again, sit in front of the television, sit in front of my computer, lie down and sleep, then repeat the process.

It was ridiculous how cheap my old gym was, literally a ten dollar deduction from each paycheck. It was also convenient. I’d walk downstairs, and the gym was closer than the temptation of the parking lot. Many a night I didn’t feel like running, but once I got moving I got my energy back.

Life is good, perhaps too good. I’ve been living large, perhaps too large. I need to look back on what I did before the gym, because my weight’s gone up and down in the past. Time was, I’d stop snacking for a month and my 38 waist would drop to a 32 or 34. Time, and a slowing metabolism, are not on my side. Before we got a gym at my old gig, I’d run in place at night while watching television. Now that there’s a piano in the living room, I’m not sure I want to risk ending up in the basement. My best bet is to tighten the bolts on my old stationary bike, which is what I used before the running in place thing. Of course, I need to get to it first, easier said than done with all the clutter in our basement my mom “rescued” from my uncle’s house when he moved. We certainly have no room for a new bike or even a treadmill.

No, I think the only answer left is the one I’ve been dreading, the one thing I hate to do. I need to go on a diet. Even when I was exercising, it didn’t have the full impact it should have, because I still ate whatever I wanted. I’m realizing that I eat out of habit more than hunger. The sandwiches and wraps I get in the deli are huge; why do I buy chips? Wednesday, after finishing my wrap, I went to work on a bag of chips, at times pausing to catch my breath, once feeling a tightness in my chest. It was very sobering.

Farewell, side dishes. Hasta la vista, 2nd or 3rd burger or taco. Ciao, chips. And most importantly, no food after dinner because I’m bored. Even when the house isn’t stocked with pastries or ice cream left over from family gatherings, I start raiding cupboards and finding crackers or pretzels. That has to stop too. In fact, I am going to get on a scale...

196.

Okay, that’s not as bad as I thought. Last year around this time, I was up around 215. Still, that 196 may be more fat than muscle now that I’ve stopped running for three months. Weight is like money. It takes longer to earn money than it does to spend it, and it takes longer to lose weight than it does to gain it. How great would life be if the reverse were true in both instances?

One month from today, give or take a few days depending on my memory, I’ll post my weight again. A tangible goal, avoiding public humiliation on the world wide web, might just be the incentive I need to stick with a new routine. I’m not going to exercise now because I got a little winded getting the scale. But I’m not going to eat crackers either, so there’s a start....