I am beginning this new year with a resolution to reduce the number which you see pictured above. I hadn’t been on our bathroom scale in at least a year, and I knew it would be a substantial number, but I nearly fainted when it turned out to be the kind of number one might see after the name of a defensive tackle for the Green Bay Packers. (Heaven help me if I had eaten popcorn at either of the two movies I went to today or if I’d opted for dessert at the Cheesecake Factory yesterday.)
This past fall was my 25th college reunion at Luther, and it would have made sense for me to have undertaken this little project ahead of that big event, but somehow I just didn’t feel the urge. I went to that reunion proud of who I am and of what I’ve accomplished and that mattered a lot more to me than looking like I did 25 years ago (and 110 pounds ago.) And frankly, it’s when I’m busy and stressed that I reach for that extra Big Mac and this fall was the busiest of my whole life. But with J-Term coming up and life looking SO much simpler (I teach no voice lessons during January- and there’s also no Carthage Choir rehearsal) this seems like a moment when I have at least a fighting chance of making this happen- and my hope is that when the stresses of second semester begin, I will already be well on the road of reduction and will be able to continue on. Kathy is doing this with me, and that will help.
I don’t want to blurt out the whole reason for this project – at least not now- but I will say that there’s something nice happening in 2008 for which I want to look good- or at least look better than I do right now. Of course, what matters a whole lot more than that is that dropping some weight is likely to give me a lot more energy than I have right now – to say nothing of giving me a little more time on this earth. And after a wonderful year like 2007, brimming with all kinds of tremendous blessings, I would be pretty stupid not to do my fair share to see to it that I’m around for Kaj’s first wrestling meet, Henry’s first grand slam homerun, Anna’s senior year violin recital, Aidan’s debut at the Metropolitan Opera, and Lorelai’s inauguration as governor of Wisconsin.
My master plan features several components- some of which are a whole lot more painful than others. #1 – I have to break my Burger King breakfast habit, which will not be easy – (The northside Kenosha Burger King staff knows me so well that I don’t even have to finish my order anymore. I can just say “the usual” and they do the rest. I’m serious.) #2 – I have to get nearly all of my meals-on-the-run from Subway, choosing specifically from their 6 grams of fat menu; that’s how I managed to lose almost 60 pounds on Weight Watchers a few years back. Me and Jared are living proof that it can be done. #3 – I have to do more exercise than I get from rewinding videotapes and playing piano accompaniments. It probably means dusting off our treadmill in the loft, which for the last couple of years has served as a bathrobe storage rack. I like that particular means of exercise much more than anything else because I can do it and still read a book. #4 – I have to stop snacking at night. I remember Oprah Winfrey once saying that nothing was more important to her weight loss efforts than for her to not eat anything after 7 pm – “not even a grape.” I can’t promise I’ll be quite that calorically celibate but I’ll do the best I can. #5 – A person who created quite a lot of stress in my life is no longer on the scene, and I need to celebrate that fact by doing a lot less “comfort eating.” #6- I want to be relatively public with this effort, because I think nothing will be a stronger incentive for me than the avoidance of utter embarassment should this effort go down in flames.
So there it is. From time to time (maybe once a week) I’ll publish an update here, not because that is scintillating information for any of you to have, but rather that it will keep me honest in this effort. I’ll do what I can to make those updates entertaining somehow, but I draw the line at taking loathsome pictures of myself standing there in nothing but my shorts. When I see people doing that on this interesting TV show “The Biggest Loser,” baring their girth for all the world to see, I want to lick my fingers and stick them in a light socket. I think I’ll settle for the simple number on the scale.