Commitment

I’ve thought about it a lot, hesitated, made excuses, and today I’m going public with it. It’s scary like shit, but I guess that’s what commitment feels like. I thought commitment was easy for me until I tried it. Ok, so committing to sharing my life with Jeff was not a hard decision. Who could turn down a good-looking man who knows how to cook and is just an all-around sweetheart? Though today I want to write about a different kind of commitment. My commitment to, over the next six months, lose 20 pounds and regain access to my 32-inch waist pants. I want all of you to witness the process and help me stay with it. Together we can do it.

This is not as sudden a decision as it might seem. Jeff and I have talked and planned for a big family event this October since last fall and recently we set a date. Before you ask, yes we are getting married. In the excitement and happiness of it all, the idea of a photographer at the event took a while to scare me. Yes, we plan to cherish this moment for years to come, but will I cherish the look of me in years to come? So now is the time to do something about it. It is also the ideal opportunity to realign reality with my image of who I am. Not so long ago, people described me as “a tall drink of water”. While still tall at a little over 6 feet 2 inches the drink is quite a bit more substantial now. Enjoying home cooked meals and sharing ice cream in front of the TV with my honey added another 12 pounds or so over the last two years.

So while I still considered myself “a thin guy” despite what the scale said, my doctor started to make noises about watching out for my elevated blood pressure and cholesterol levels. Damn, I really am getting older. I used to have really low blood pressure and had no idea what cholesterol was. This is changing now. As a start I took an inventory this morning: Weight 190 pounds. Body-mass-index (BMI) 24.5. With a BMI below 25 I’m not considered overweight but getting close. Then there’s the waist-to-hip ratio, a measure of how big a belly you carry around. That’s supposed to be below 0.92. My waist-to-hip ratio today is 0.98. If I lost about two and a half inches around the middle, I’d be there. But I have loftier goals.

This is where we are getting to my target weight. After all, if I go through the troubles of getting married, I might as well make sure I have plenty of time to enjoy it. So I decided to use the Metropolitan Life Insurance Company tables that list body weight for maximum longevity. The longer the better I always say. Adding an inch to my height, the tables are based on people wearing shoes, and subtracting 5 pounds for indoor clothing, my ideal (naked) body weight ranges from 162 to 177 pounds. The mid-point is at 170 pounds. Hence the title of the column.

I have six months to get there, much longer than any miracle diet would take. Though I’m not betting on miracles. I’ll stick with a plan of sensible eating and increased exercise. Death to office snacks! For motivation and background info, I have a copy of the Abs Diet on my desk. That’s my first line of attack. The second line of defense is all of you guys. I’ll write a weekly column every Friday on where I am. Stay tuned.

First Week

After the first week, I think I’ve discovered why people lose weight on the Abs Diet. It’s not a whole lot of food! Yes, you do get to eat six meals a day. Though the flowering prose of the book might lead you to believe you’ll be filling your belly like you don’t know how to spell the word diet. Reality looks a bit different. The six meals are simply necessary to keep you going without chewing your pencil as a nutritious addition to your day.

Ok, so it’s not that bad. While I find my stomach feeling much emptier than I’m used to, I’m not exactly starving either. Though keeping to a regular feeding schedule has become important. To keep a check on portion size, a bit of an issue with me, I’m pre-packing my lunch and snacks for the day. The best time for doing this turns out to be after dinner when another diet day feels pleasantly doable. It also helps that I do like much of the recommended foods. I love oatmeal, berries, whole grains and fruit. I find shakes comforting indulgences. Had the book expected me to start my day with eggs and steak, I probably wouldn’t have bothered.

Although not prescribed by the book for the first week, I have also returned to the gym. You won’t find me doing bench presses yet, but I went back to yoga. It was also harder than I remembered. Did they just step up the level why I was gone? No, not another Chataranga! No, I can’t focus on my breathing while I see my life flashing in front of me. Some women in the front row might be able to do a standing split, but I take comfort in the guys to my side. Like mine, their poses resemble more a polite bow. Other things have changed too. They replaced the cashiers in the parking structure with machines, a big improvement, and moved stuff around on the floor. You might think I was gone for years! The final embarrassment came when I couldn’t remember the combination on my padlock for the locker. So not a perfect start, but a start.

With the yoga class on Tuesday and a good hike in Griffith Park on Thursday night I feel like I’ve done my share of exercise to help melt my gut. As always, once I’m there I enjoy the exercise and I feel so much better afterwards. The only puzzle to solve is why I dread getting started so much. I found a way of getting around this with the weekly hike. I volunteered to lead the hike for the next two months while Jeff is taking classes. If you want to make sure you’ll show up, just put yourself in charge. Works for me.

Conclusion of the first week: Lost five pounds since Friday. A brief spell of diarrhea seemed to have sped things up a little. No major sugar cravings yet, but please, don’t show me a chocolate cake unless you want to meet Mr. Hyde. Crankiness is at a tolerable level as long as I stick to my eating schedule. Started to travel with a supply of healthy snacks as a public service to my surroundings.

The Lost Inch

Few guys would get excited about losing an inch on a critical body part. Well, I’m happy to say that in the two weeks since I’ve started, I lost an inch around the middle. While my ass saw a little shrinkage too, my waist-to-hip ration “inched” closer to my goal of 0.92. That’s progress in cold, hard numbers. Still, I need all the encouragement I can find in the daily battle with my growling stomach.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to stick with dieting and exercising while watching your weight go up? While some intestinal discomfort last week sped up my progress in the weight loss department, I paid for it during the day to follow. My system, blessedly recovering and regaining balance, decided to restock the fluids it dump so readily. So despite my best efforts, for three days I gained weight. The final weigh-in this morning though brought the reward. I held on to the premature loss and added a little on top of it. With 6.5 pounds in the first two weeks, I’m well in the range of the average weight loss of 5 to 8 pounds the book advertises for the first two weeks.

Now for the not so readily measurable benefits: Yesterday I toured my closet. That is I looked at the selection of suits and pants I had given up wearing. Have you ever heard the truth about calories? Calories are the little critters that live in your closet and sow your cloths tighter. I think that is a very likely explanation. Over the last two years, I found on the rack fewer and fewer trousers that I could wear in public. I.e. pants that I can sit down in and breath at the same time. Some stubbornly refused to close right from the start. Today, there is clear progress in that area. Ok, so the black pants I wore to work yesterday might have been a bit of a stretch. They felt like a better fit in the morning rather than after several hours of sitting in them. But progress is progress.

To look at this yet another way, I wanted to know just how much six pounds were. I pulled out our kitchen scale and started to put small water bottles on it. Somewhere between five and six bottles the scale crossed the six-pound mark. I took five of them and held them in my hands. That package had a good heft. Would I volunteer to carry them around all day? Sure not. With almost one third of my goal accomplished, this feels like a lot of freedom to gain.

The hard part now comes this weekend. We have several functions to go to and want to spend some time hanging out with friends. Of course, all of it includes food. It is so easy to eat without thinking when you are in the middle of an event or not wanting to seem impolite when your hosts urge you to have “just another bite”. My plan is to nibble politely on the foods that don’t fit in my plan and to make sure I’m not starving before we go out. A full stomach has a much easier time saying no-thanks to thirds and picking the lean meats and salads over deep-fry.

To Pie or Not to Pie

“That apple pie looks really good. So does the cherry pie.” – “But I already had a muffin in the morning. Ok, a muffin and a half. I hadn’t planned on eating that either.” – “No, you don’t NEED to eat the pie. You want to stick to your diet. Remember, you want to lose weight.” – “How will you feel once you finished it? How will you feel tomorrow morning when you step on the scale?” – “I really, really want that pie!” – “But do you need it? Do you really need to eat it right now?” – “Ok, I don’t NEED to eat it, but it looks really good!”

That about captures the dialog I had with myself on Thursday in front of the dessert tray. There is probably nothing more threatening to your diet than being locked up for four days in a really boring class, glued to your chair in a darkened room while an elderly presenter drones on, reading from PowerPoint slides. To make things worse, food is catered all day starting with breakfast, moving through lunch including the desserts mentioned and closing with afternoon snacks. They are really trying to fatten me up here. Bore me to tears, restrict physical activity, and then put plenty of food right there. The picture of the little piggy in the trough flashes in my mind and I finally pull my hand back from the pie. I hope nobody notices that I was standing there frozen for minutes, only swaying back and forth as the forces of good and evil play out their scene.

That’s where I am after three weeks on the new eating plan. I’m learning not to call it a diet. A diet suggests something temporary. This is a change for good. Though I’m not swearing off the sweet stuff completely. While I can imagine a life without chocolate, ice cream and cake, I can’t imagine I would want to live in such a world. A pint of ice cream every night on the other hand, well that’s not strictly necessary. I think I can introduce some moderation even in the long run.

Jeff by the way is a great help. He is experimenting with ways to cook healthier food choices for dinner and gives just the right feedback when prompted. While the bathroom scale is a good way of tracking progress, the more impressive measure is the fit of my pants. I might even have to by a new belt. I also feel real progress in hiking and in my yoga class. Gone are the times when I claimed loudly that the unseen forces of the universe had yet again made the Thursday hike steeper and longer than the previous week. On the contrary, it is getting a little easier each time. And it doesn’t feel so hard to move from cobra to downward dog anymore. I really can make that move without flashing stars and a stream of foul thoughts directed at the yoga teacher.

I’m still waiting for someone to comment on my progress. Or rather, comment without me saying: “Honey, how do you think I look. I really could use a compliment right now.” Those responses, while appreciated, do feel a little forced. But hey, if you don’t ask for what you need, how would your loved one know how to take care of you? It is so much better to speak up, or move a hand or body part here or there, than thinking: “I wish he would…” But that’s really an article for another time.

Hot and Happy

Today is a very happy day. With the California Supreme Court ruling marriage for gay and lesbian couples has become a reality. The pleasure might be temporarily but I’m willing to put my faith in the California electorate. It is a day worth celebrating. It also is a real scorcher here in LA. Our adorable 1930s apartment was designed without air-conditioning in mind. Recently one of our neighbors moved out and left us a small window unit. Though so far we’ve used it only in dire situations at night. If the thermometer keeps climbing like today, I will grab my laptop and bunker down in the bedroom.

This really is going to be an entry about losing weight. I promise. Just for once, the larger world is overshadowing our life here with good news. It’s about time too. We have seen much distressing and deeply saddening stories on the news in the last week. I guess the best we can do is to stay with the path we’ve set out on. Even if the going gets tough and rewards are not readily apparent. At least my bathroom scale seems to have stopped cooperating. In a moment of doubt I stepped on the scale at the gym. Obviously, the tall snooty number there is in cahoots with the little white thing that lives with us. They both claim that I weigh the same, OK a half-pound more, than last week.

Can I reframe this as an opportunity to show that I can stick with a decision, and go all the way, even if gratification doesn’t come along for the ride? Let’s stay with that thought for now. Or could it possible be the slice of carrot cake I had at an office party this week? Banding together with the two glasses of red wine from the weekend? I picture them standing on the side of my scale and pulling me down, sending the numbers higher and higher. On the up side, there is still progress around my middle, meaning there is a little less than there used to be. That’s going in the right direction.

Have you ever seen these ads where they show the “proud” patient with two gallons of their own body fat neatly drawn into plastic bags? I must not be in the target group of these ads because they make me want to run from any such procedure as fast as I can. Recently, I’ve gotten quite a bit faster too. A very rough estimate of the change of my waistline leads me to believe that I shrunk my midsection by around six cups of fat. Not shabby considering this came without surgery and even saved me some money on food. Granted, protein powder isn’t cheap, so it probably comes out even. Now I'm just waiting for the money of the liposuction I didn’t have to show up in my bank account.

Steady as She Goes

It occurred to me this morning that I sometimes see my body like this big ocean liner that I steer through life. No matter how frantically I turn the till, she just won’t turn on the spot. Though if I use a light touch, keep a good look ahead and just take my time, she takes me to just about anywhere I want to go. This is both a very comforting thought and at times utterly frustrating. No matter how much I stomp my feet on the deck in the heat of the moment, the big hull has her own mind and momentum. At other times, I’m truly glad that minor storms won’t push her off course. Does all that have anything to do with my 20-pounds story? I’m getting to it just about now.

Throughout last week, I stepped on the scale every morning, hoping for a bit of positive feedback. No such luck. The numbers remained stubbornly the same. Which by the way is pretty surprising in itself. Consider for a moment that a half-pound change in my weight is less than one third of a percent of my body weight. Considering the weight of the food and drink I put in my body every day, the water I lose through sweating and breathing and what comes out in the bathroom, it takes a finely tuned machinery to keep the balance this stable. There also seems to be a somewhat mysterious delay built into all this. Let me not go too deep into the details of bodily functions, but consider this observation: An extra slice of carrot cake or glass of wine, extra calories for sure, don’t show up the next morning on the scale, but rather a few days later. Don’t ask me how that works, I guess is just a little more complicated than a simple in and out.

The short lesson from all this seems to be that in losing weight, as in so many other changes we want to establish in our life, we have to set a course and stick with it for a while, even if the ships at times feel more like bulky barges than sleek racing yachts. It also means that we won’t topple over just because we nodded off at the wheel for a moment. We should take comfort in that as well.

Something else though makes this a particularly fine moment. Yesterday I finished a project that had been hanging over my head for a while. Finally I got everyone to agree that it was good to go and I was able to hand it off. Keep your fingers crossed that it doesn’t boomerang back to me, though that seems unlikely right now. With that project accomplished I’m looking forward to a long holiday weekend and to more time for the site over the next two weeks. Stay tuned, there is more to come.

Run Over by the Desert Cart

Thursday: It had to happen at some point. It was just going too well. Somebody told me that keeping to a sensible eating plan was simply a matter of will power. Hmm, I think I've just run flat out of will.

It's been building up for a couple of days: the extra snacks, the slightly larger portions and so on. Then today the total break down. Sitting in an all-day meeting with yummy snacks stacked up behind me was the opportunity, not the reason for me to fall off the wagon. For a while I still heard that little voice: “Oh, they aren't really that big. I'll skip dinner.” Sounds la lot like “I'm in total control. I can stop at any time.” Doesn’t it?

I'm sitting here in the meeting thumbing away on this entry on my little fruit-thingy mostly because I will be back tomorrow in the same room with presumably similar evil snacks. Writing this might help me stay away from them tomorrow. I sure hope writing this will make sure I'm won’t be back raiding the desert tray tomorrow. Stay tuned. This is live from way outside the zone.

Friday: I paid my penance at the scale this morning and promised to do better. I'm picking my way very carefully through the food offerings at the conference and pick up every motivation I can find. There's the former colleague who for his 40th birthday decided to shed the pounds that he put on when his wife was pregnant with his two children. That was six years ago and if anything he looks thinner now than when he first lost the weight. There's Jeff brother who has made great progress in dropping weight. If they can all do this, I can do it too. It's all about some small behavioral changes right? Yeah, RIGHT.

Hiking in LA

Last night I was high on the best drug I know. Endorphins. Coming up to the top of Mt. Hollywood in Griffith Park, I had worked my system long and hard enough to get to the pleasant cruise stage that some call “the second wind.” I’m pretty sure it’s a left over from the times our ancestors had to run from the saber tooth tiger and not making it had only one out come. Natural selection. Today, much of our expanding waistline is attributable to the fact that we don’t have to run from huge carnivores anymore and yet our instincts are still geared for the stone-ages. The angry scowl on your bosses face just isn’t doing it and running in panic across the parking lot might not be the way to your next promotion either.

In the silky Los Angeles night air, the beautiful colors of the sunset topped off with the smallest sliver of a waxing moon turned my natural high into an experience I told myself to remember. It reminded me of a scene in the last season of the Sopranos when Tony Soprano, high on mushrooms, yells out to the Nevada sky: “I get it.” We need to hold on to these insights as they all too often get swept away by the river of daily routine.

We hung out on the top for about 15 minutes, chatting amiably with the usual friendly crowd and a few newcomers while waiting for the “fast” group to catch up with us. It was on the way down when it really hit me that I live in this city that defies imagination through its sheer diversity of the people and life styles that somehow manages to make it all work in some fashion. Often better than anyone would expect, although most of us expect and demand more of the city. Yesterday, though, was not a moment to strive or work harder. It was a moment for me to enjoy life, to appreciate it as it is right now. Not as it could be or should be or might have been. Simply as it is and to acknowledge how good it is.

Yes, I’m still dedicated to losing the second ten pounds to get to the goal. But right now it feels like something that I want to do because I can and because it will make me feel even better about myself, the way I look and how comfortable I am in this body that works so hard for me. I’m no longer trying to wrestle an obstinate body into submission, but want to offer it the best care I can. After all, we are not two squabbling siblings locked into the same room, we are truly one. I am my body and I’m committed to provide for myself the best way I know how. That means feed it regularly but sparingly, make sure it gets a good amount of exercise, gets to play with friends and has something interesting to do. Of course every now and then there are also the simple lazy days that are so necessary to balance the active side of life. Sounds like great advice for a loving pet owner, doesn’t it? Well, I think I’m stepping up to the challenge of becoming a loving body owner.

A New Beginning

It’s been seven weeks since my last entry. I just did a double take and recounted the weeks on the calendar. Seven weeks is a long time. I didn’t think it had been this long. On the upside, Jeff and I had a wonderful trip to Germany and France. Lots of new things to see and good food to eat. Before you ask, no we did not spend six weeks in Europe. We were gone for just under three weeks. But the rest of the time was taken up with getting back and catching up with everything, and all the excuses you can think of. Last Monday, with another look at the calendar and the numbers on the bathroom scale I had finally run out of excuses. It was high time to get back on the “eat right” track.

Meanwhile the big day has come a lot closer. There are nine weeks left before the end of September, about the latest date we can shop for wedding dresses (I mean tuxedos) and thirteen weeks until the big day. Time enough but no time to waste. I’m still 15 pounds from the original goal, which translates to an average weight loss per week of a little more than one and a half pounds. No heroic deeds required yet, but steady attention. So here’s my resolution: No alcohol, not sugary deserts, no ice cream and no raiding of the bowl of chocolates at the office. Instead, I’ll pack my food in the morning and will stay with the hiking and the yoga classes. I’ve done it before and I can do this again.

This is not exactly like singing in the dark, but probably the 21st century equivalent of it. Luckily, there are no big business trips on my calendar for the next several weeks, so I’ll have to do without this convenient excuse. After all, how can you not treat yourself after five hours on a plane, finding yourself in a strange hotel away from the man you love? Of course, celebrating 10 a.m. and another glorious morning in the office can become a reason to “treat yourself” too.

The new me, of course wants to reframe what treating myself means. Does it really mean trading the long-term goal of good health and feeling of accomplishment for fleeting oral satisfaction? Isn’t it better to feed my body what’s best for him to keep around and active for as long as possible? Hmm, perhaps I’ll print those questions to carry in my wallet so I can remind myself when the next food emergency strikes.

Strong Roots

Yesterday, like most Thursdays just before 7 pm, I was waiting in Griffith Park for the regular hiking crowd to arrive for an awesome midweek break from the desk in friendly company. Yesterday, I had extra time and stretched out on the little park bench under a California Live Oak tree where we always gather before the hike. Yesterday though for what felt like the first time, I looked up into this beautiful tree and really noticed the tree. The impressive trunk reaching for the sky with branches covered in graceful leaves. The tree must have grown here for eighty or more years, earthquakes, fires, droughts, rain and storms. As I was watching the branches gently sway in the breeze, I realized that the secret to the tree’s long and healthy life were strong roots and great flexibility.

The tree is a lovely metaphor for our lives, as we struggle for balance and seek to secure our own place. Be open and flexible to move with the flow of life and stand firm in the storms. Does this still have anything to do with losing weight? In a way it does. I’ve made good on my pledge from last week. No alcohol, pretty easy though I had to let Jeff drink alone. No chocolates at the office: Harder, but calling people reaching for the jar names seems to help. Of course I do it quietly, only thinking the words. Shouting in a meeting: “Put down that chocolate. Do you have any idea how many calories that is and how much trans fat you are gobbling up?” Might be a bit distracting. Packing my lunch for the day, not a big problem with some planning. Not snapping at my husband (sorry, fiancé) because he doesn’t hand me food the moment I come through the door: Really hard. I had to remind myself that reaching the perfect wedding weight while losing the groom due to irreconcilable dietary differences is not the plan.

So I make sure I keep an eye on my hunger-driven crankiness and have an emergency snack handy. It might also be dawning on Jeff that sometimes it is best to throw me a carton of yoghurt from a safe distance and wait a few minutes before trying to tell me about his day. Especially, if I just spent an hour in LA traffic. I consider that a fair trade, as he has the privilege of biking to work and comes home sweaty but relaxed. I make up for it on the days I come home after my yoga class, showered and serenely floating on cloud nine.

Sorry, if anyone one of you expected me to talk about the earthquake. Well, Tuesday is so long ago and we seasoned Southern Californians have all but forgotten about it. So the news crews had to look really hard to find a store with stuff all over the floor. In the office, I had to calm the nerves of three new arrivals who had just gone through their first earthquake. “I’m from Boston, I don’t know what to do,” was a pretty typical statement. Other than the momentary phone outage because everyone had to tell their friends, we were all OK. In this LA, where it is so easy to feel lonely and isolated despite, or because of our apparent business, earthquakes are the one reminder that we are in this together. Not just in the office building, or on the bus, but in life. Let that thought sink in a little and suddenly it isn’t half as scary anymore.

Approaching the halfway point. Again.

I just reread my first entry from back in April. Such enthusiasm and commitment. Well, I said it, wrote it down and I’m sticking with it. Again I’m approaching the half way mark, in good spirits and, I believe, without gimmicks. Will I make it beyond the so far elusive 180-pound barrier? Will I take strength from the Olympic games, that opened today to do what every athlete needs to do? Stick with the plan even when it gets hard? With a dinner party planned for tomorrow, will I politely nibble on the wonderful fare we are planning to provide and sip the wine that we will have? Right now I’m asking for a one-day waver from my promise to forgo alcohol and desserts. It’s a social obligation.

The big difference between April and now is that six months have shrunken to about two and a half. Not much time left for detours but still doable. If I kept up my rate of two pounds per week I should be there in about six weeks. Which leaves about four weeks to spare. If you read back to my first article, you’ll also see that any weight of 177 or less would be in the goal range. And no, I didn’t go back and edit the entry. That’s only 4 pounds from here. Even closer. While I'm at it, I should probably come clean by mentioning that my starting weight of 190.5 in April was not the highest I came in at recently. Some time in February the scale registered around 195. And that was after I eased off on the chow for a while before I dared to step on the scale. Today I’m 14 pounds lighter and 56 percent towards my goal. Calculating from the official 190.5 point I’m 46 percent there. Let’s call this about half way.

Looking for a bit more of positive feedback I wanted to know how much 14 pounds really were. I picked up a footstool from the bedroom, hoisted it on my shoulders and stepped on the scale. I hope the neighbors weren’t watching. The thing is pretty hard to hold up like that. 20 pounds. That’s a little too heavy to represent my progress but a pretty darn good image to illustrate the goal. I’ve set out to drop a footstool! I imagine having this tied to my back at all times and I swear never to touch sugar again, or at least for a while.

Abandoning the search for the perfect piece of furniture, I turn to my bookshelf. Some careful experimenting yields that so far I have lost a boxed edition of Alexander von Humboldt’s Kosmos, Landscape Plants for Western Regions together with The Lord Won’t Mind by Gordon Merrick. Yes, I am a geeky gay guy who once wanted to plant a garden that sucked up less water. They are all good reads and references in case you are interested. The remaining eleven pounds could be a two-volume encyclopedia of astronomy, Carl Sagan’s Demon Haunted World and The Chicago Manual of Style, all in hard cover. I did go for the heavy hitters on the shelf. Paperbacks would have been just too awkward. Besides, I’m not ready to admit publicly what I read on long airplane rides.

By the way, the hardcover version of The Abs Diet weighs in just under one pound and four ounces. So I’m to lose between 1 and two copies a week to get to 170 in six weeks. I think I’ll leave at that for now. Next week, the measuring tape comes out.

Sticking with it

Last week I asked for a one-time waiver from the no-dessert and no-alcohol promise. Well, it was a grand party and sure worth the investment. For the week, I managed to stay pretty much at the weight I was. Which also means that I didn’t lose anything. While I don’t regret the fabulous evening, as usual it is a little harder to live with the consequences. That’s why I’m writing this down now to strengthen my resolve for the weeks to come.

I’m also writing this entry on Sunday instead of the usual Friday. Friday is the perfect weigh-in day because of the hike the night before. After two-and-a-half hours of aerobic exercise on Thursday night on Friday morning I usually reach my lowest weight of the week. Not so this week. For some obscure metabolic reasons I was exactly the same weight on Thursday morning as on Friday morning. Go figure. Same yesterday, until this morning: 180 pounds! Which is the lowest weight I ever came in since I started this blog and before we left on vacation in June. Any lower number from here is beyond the magic mark and entering new territory.

Here are the lessons I’ve noted so far from this:

• If you have a good plan, hang in even if results don’t show up immediately.
• If you stay on track, results will show up eventually.
• Don’t miss all the good times with your friends because of an arbitrary diet goal. Good times with friends are worth a little setback.

A Break

Coming around the last turn, the goal is in sight. Not sure yet whether it will be an up-hill battle all the way to the finish or a gentle cruise toward the cheering crowds. Perhaps it’s just a break along the way and the goal is really much further off than I think. In any case, I’ve arrived in the 170’s and the 180-pound mark has fallen. It will take losing a few extra pounds before I come in below 180 in clothes and after breakfast, but let’s not change the rules of the game at halftime. I’m feeling fine. Oh, did I mention the pants I’m rediscovering in the closet?

Of course there are challenges left. How do you tell your soon-to-be husband that he really shouldn’t eat M&Ms in front of you, if he has any regard for his own life and physical safety? How do you move past the dessert display at a luncheon with your internal dialog stuck in the loop: “looks good – is bad for you – looks good…” Though yesterday in the buffet line I did really well. Picked some really nice looking salads, skipped the gooey dressings and settled on a couple of tasty pieces of salmon. I steered deftly past the sweets and made if back to my table with a sense of accomplishment. Too good to be true? Yes, because next I had to watch my colleague, ten years younger with a metabolism permanently stuck in overdrive, go back for seconds of cheese, refried beans and sour cream, and then come back from the third trip with an extra helping of German chocolate cake. Ignore for the moment that I really don’t care much for German chocolate cake, which by the way is as well known in Germany as Fortune Cookies in Beijing (i.e. nobody there has ever heard of it). The fact remains that he is eating something that right now smells really good and my inner three-year old shouts, “Gimme! Gimme!”

But I made it through. Had a crunchy apple back in my office and thought slimming thoughts. As an extra plus, my work computer made it successfully through the organ transplant surgery (new hard drive) and seems to be cheerfully going after everything I ask him to do. Ok, so he still needs the extra cup of coffee to get started in the morning, but who doesn’t. Life is good all around.

Found a Culprit

Sometimes, a new discovery takes extra data and a new interpretation. This week, the two came together on my weight loss program. Since I got serious about losing weight back in April, there have been periods of steady decline in weight, well explained by my more or less rigorous adherence to my eating plan. In the middle of these good periods, however, a few times for no apparent reason my weight shot up. That’s particularly frustrating when you sincerely think you’ve been very good and really did not go for the extra dessert.

At the beginning of June, just before we went on vacation in Germany and France, I had watched closely what I ate and it paid off over the weeks. Then over two days, without a change in my eating, I gained three pounds in two days. If it takes you three weeks to lose three pounds, gaining them back in two days is quite a shock. Something similar happened last weekend. I was making great progress and suddenly my weight went up. So far I had written this off as beyond explanation, until I had a closer look at my log. Every morning, I write down not only my weight, but I also note when I exercise and when I’m feeling not so well. This time I noticed that each time I gained weight, I also felt sick around the same time. I usually eat less when I’m not feeling well. So why the weight gain?

When I’m seriously under the weather, I take Tylenol and when I have a headache I take Advil. Perhaps the weight gain had something to do with the Tylenol? A quick browsing on the Internet did not yield any reports of water retention related to Tylenol. However, Ibuprofen, the main ingredient in Advil, is well known to cause water retention. Well know, just not by me. So I did this little experiment and laid off the Advil (together with the Tylenol while I was at it) and voila, the extra weight melted away. I usually don’t lose four pounds in four days without serious intestinal discomfort! It’s probably also good to slow down my Advil consumption. The stuff works really well for my headaches, but it turns out that usually they don’t get really bad even if I don’t take anything. In any case, not taking it and waiting to see what happens is cheaper and easier on my stomach.

By the way, did I mention the melting inches? Ok, so far it’s the melted inch but don’t hold this against me. I take my encouragement where I can find it. The magical waist-to-hip ratio goal of 0.92 or better has come within reach. Of course, I could use the strategy I saw in action on Monday. I went to a free health screening sponsored by my employer, and measuring your waist was part of the program. When it was my turn, the nurse gave me the measuring tape to hold to my navel and asked me to turn around while she held the other end. When I had made the turn she tightened the tape and noted the reading. Although this was done with moderate privacy behind a screen, I overheard the next guy joking with the nurse: “You aren’t pulling hard enough.”

Serious Measures Required

With seven weeks left to go until the big day and seven pounds left on the bathroom scale, serious measures are called for this week. Yes, there has been a lot of progress but I’m not ready yet to say: “Close enough.” I could settle for 175 and, with some justification, claim that it was a 20-pound drop. Compared to the (documented) number in February, that’s true. However, I did set out for a different goal. Back in April I said I would get to 170 by October 25 and the goal still stands.

So how serious am I going to be? Well, for now I’ll add a weight routine to my weekly workout. That adds up to one yoga class, one hike and one weight lifting routine per week. I know that even with that I’m still far from becoming a gym-bunny, but hey I’ve started from no exercise at all. So please keep your fingers crossed and wish me the best of motivation.

Even more motivation comes from the tuxedos that are now hanging in the closet. They turned out to be a real find and should fit just fine. If I do lose the remaining seven pounds, and the associated inch around the middle, I might even be able to sit down with the pants buttoned up. With all my talk and writing about losing weight to look good, I might have infected Jeff along the way. Yesterday he suddenly declared that he too would like to drop five pounds. I predict that during the last week before the wedding we will split a carrot stick, call it a really nice dinner and feel guilty like hell for stuffing ourselves.

Food Blues

Somehow I’m having a hard time getting going with the column this week. I tell myself that it’s because I’m a little tired. It’s been a big week with lots of new experiences and there is the added pressure of the approaching deadline. My first choice would be to just avoid this. Can I just get a quart of ice cream and curl up on the sofa? Or how about those Entenmann’s sheet cakes? Last week I told Jeff that one of them used to replace a lonely dinner. One was my limit only because I didn’t want to face the cashier with two cakes and a half-gallon of milk in tow.

Food has always been a great source of comfort to me. It never demands anything except to be eaten. It needs no taking care except being bought, and it is always ready sitting there on the shelves in the market. My mother used to tell me that even as a little baby I was happiest with the bottle. Emptying it in one steady gulp most of the time. Where other babies needed to be coaxed into eating, I just went right to it. Later as a young boy I had competitions with my teenage sister who could eat more baked goods in one sitting. Six Bavarian style pretzels and a liter of milk were considered a good showing. All the while a raving metabolism shot up my height to six feet two by my early teenage years and kept me rail thin through my twenties.

Now this supercharged metabolism has slowed down to a more measured pace, but food is still a source of great comfort in distress. So now I have to learn other ways of soothing. Ways that are not as close as the refrigerator door but have long-term benefits rather than clogging my arteries with cholesterol. Yes, I know all this, but for some reason the sun doesn’t seem to shine as bright today and I ‘m feeling a bit blue. I guess it’s time to go to the gym.

PS: And I did go and I feel much happier for it. Endorphins always beat carbs, if you let them.

Down 15, Five To Go

So I dropped a footstool. Well, not the way you might think. Relax. No innocent furniture was hurt in the research for this article. But since February I lost the weight of the footstool that lives in our bedroom. This morning I hoisted it (right word, the piece is heavy) on my shoulders and stepped, thus burdened on the bathroom scale. Pleasantly, the scale registered one pound less than it did with me alone as recently as February. The comfy piece designed by brothers Charles & Ray Eames weights in at 19.5 pounds. Today, I came in at 20.5 pounds less than on February 10.

Though before you bring out the confetti I’d like to remind you that I still have five more pounds to go. I started this blog back in April when I had already retreated from my peak weight by five pounds. A more accurate statement would probably be “recorded peak weight”. Honestly, I avoided the scale at the beginning of the year for quite some time. I knew that the holidays had been especially fattening and I wanted to get over the worst before I was ready to face the bitter truth.

It feels really good to be so close to the goal, and to be safely out of the 180's territory. The 170 lb goal is still achievable, though it does feel a little fragile. Over the last eight weeks I lost ten pounds. The last five weeks have seen a steady, though maddeningly slow drop of one pound per week. Have I mentioned that I’m not very patient? Five pounds left with five weeks to go. Still doable, though no margin left to squander. Will I feel like a failure when the day before the wedding, October 24, I come in at 171? I don’t think so. After all, my weight is only a number on the scale, and the man I’m marrying is real and we are in love.

I do know that my motivation is way up. With just five pounds and only five weeks left, desserts have suddenly lost their allure. This week alone we twice had birthday cake at the office, and each time I politely declined. I did make sure though to stand back from the cake, spend only the time dictated by decorum with the group, and enjoyed uncharitable thoughts about the colleague who went for the third slice. At home, Jeff has now joined forces and we are planning a lighter but satisfying meal for our luncheon on Sunday. No our friends won’t have to share a celery stick and sip on distilled water. Though we will go with grilled chicken breasts instead of fatty pork cuts and chocolate torte.

I also know that I don’t want to metaphorically race to the goal, throw myself over the finish line, collapse and in no time balloon back up to where I was. The key reason and the benefit of losing the weight at this excruciatingly slow pace, is that it forces me to establish good eating and coping habits over the long term. So it might take a little longer than I thought. I might gain a few pounds back in the excitement of the wedding festivities. The main point is to come back to the sound eating, exercise and sleeping schedule I use now. That will make the results last. Which also means that even after I reach the goal I will check in with you every now and then to keep me honest.

Yo-Yo Anyone?

Did you miss me? Well, I missed last week’s column. Jeff commented a few days ago with a sharp “Aha”, when he looked at the date of the latest entry. Busted. Do I have an excuse? Not really, though many good reasons. Between extra work, a busy social schedule, and the last urgent wedding preparations, the column simply got pushed out. Together with a good part of my diet, though we do have the seating chart worked out and we are indeed all (I hope?) GO for the big day.

In the midst of all of this, my bathroom scale has seen some pretty wild fluctuations. By this morning I had reined in the worst of it. And in spite of the rather wild changes in weight, my waist size has inched closer to the goal. So there is more going on than just a simple reduction. There is also some redistribution. Excellent, of course, as this was precisely the goal. Fight the pull of gravity as long as you can! The next two weeks on the other hand should be clear sailing in terms of eating right. No enticing party food or an overabundance of free food at the office. For extra motivation I tried on the tuxedo pants. Doable right now, thanks to strong buttons, but I had hoped for a little more breathing room. I could do with another three to five pounds less before we walk down the isle. On the other hand, vest and coat of formal wear do cover up a lot.

Did I mention that one of the events on our social calendar was a wedding shower that my colleagues organized for us? When a (female) colleague first suggested this, I pictured cake and sodas in a conference room. That’s pretty much what we do for all of our social occasions at the office. But somehow it turned into an event at a local restaurant with beautifully printed invitations. I had no idea how much I would bond with my colleagues over getting married. Suddenly I’m swapping tales of guest list dilemmas and cake selection woes with people I had barely talked to. A colleague from who I would have least expected it telling me about his son’s “significant other” on Hawaii. It is amazing, eye-opening and great fun. Organizing a huge party with friends and relatives seems to be pretty much the same no matter who you are.

In short, I have good news on the social front, not devastating news when it comes to my weight. Of course I’m already thinking: “so if I don’t eat for the next ten days…” Where’s the miracle diet when you need it? Pineapple enzymes? Royal flush? Just say no? I’ll keep you posted.

Maybe, Maybe Not

No, I have not attempted any miracle diets (yet), though salads have taken a more prominent role in my diet and there are fewer snacks in my day. Exercise is still going strong. In other words, I haven’t given up on the goal. Four pounds are left and I have two weeks left to go. That’s still in the realm of possibility and at the same time a tall order. With the exception of the first week I started the diet, I’ve never lost that much weight in two weeks. Then again, these are unusual times and motivation is running high.

Last week, having pulled myself back from a serious setback, I was all ready to resign myself to a much longer process. I still stand behind what I wrote last week. If I came in 2 or 3 pounds from the goal, I would still feel really good about it. Though wouldn’t it be sweet to meet it? I’m also very clear that I don’t want to just make the goal and promptly put all the weight back on. Which reminds me of a New Yorker cartoon where two blobs of body fat stand around at a cocktail party. One of them checks his watch and tells the other: “Well, it looks like about time to head back.” I want my globs to enjoy their drinks and stay gone.

Of course, I’m checking my progress not only on the scale, but also by how my pants fit and by how I look in the mirror. Not only do I have many more pants and outfits to choose from, but I also like what I see in the mirror. More and more, the picture in the mirror once again matches the picture I have of myself in my head. I look at my reflection and I think: “Hey, you. Welcome back, it’s good to see you again.” I don’t ask my reflection where I’ve been, though. Aside from that sounding a little too silly, I know exactly where I’ve been all the time. Right here inside of me.

This is a little coming out party in it’s own right. Just in time for the wedding. Where are the balloons?

So Close

With one more week to go to the big day, the focus has shifted dramatically away from planning to doing. Today, we are picking up the first out of town guest and they’ll keep arriving through the week. This is shaping up to be a great event. At the same time, we are still busy spinning through our lives while moving rapidly towards the 25th. It was last night, on my way to the hike in Griffith Park, that it suddenly hit me. We are really going to do this. Next week I’m going to get married! In one big moment it shifted from planning this marvelous event that “might be held for some unknown person at some undetermined time” to “it’s me and it will be next week.” I took a deep breath after that realization and then a great feeling of happiness spread through my body. Yes, I’m getting married to Jeff, my wonderful man and all our friends and families will be there.

On this background, I’ve been checking off the downward ticks of the bathroom scale without much surprise but great enthusiasm. Though news that my sweet tooth has left me for good were premature. Last Saturday, Jeff and I had tea at the Huntington Library, the large public garden and art collection in Pasadena. Tea at the Huntington is about the gayest thing two men can do in public without running the danger of being arrested. The scene at the tearoom is dominated by women throwing wedding showers for their girlfriends and wizened old ladies. Though it is the perfect spot to get a feel for the old-moneyed Pasadena crowd.

Tearoom fare, it turned out, is still awfully tempting to me. All the little lemon bars, pecan cake slices, chocolate crème filled chocolate shells, tarts and fruit breads. Not to mention the salmon, spicy egg salad, and prosciutto with pear sandwiches. Followed by strawberries and crème, fruits and other tasty bits. Suffice it to say, the next day I came in two pounds heavier. Though I really didn’t have much time for feelings of guilt. It had just been too good to turn down.

A much stricter approach to my diet was followed by a steady pound-a-day drop throughout the week until I came in at a steady 172.5 pounds this morning, same as yesterday. If I shaved off just another pound by next week, well, I guess I’d call that success. If not, it’s good too. Hey, I even put on the pants I bought four-and-a-half years ago, when I last was in good physical shape and thought, I’d take off a few more pounds soon. They were tight then. Today the pants did indeed close without drastic measures. Not quite enough room yet to comfortably put a shirt in the waistband too but it is still close to a two-size drop. It still made me feel great and I skipped around the apartment a bit and forced Jeff to tell me how happy he was for me. He’s such a sweetheart.

I Made It!

It’s the day before the wedding and this morning the bathroom scale showed an even 170.0 pounds! Which means I made the goal. With no margin to spare, but I made it. Because there is a lot to do with friends and family in town, this will be the shortest entry ever. Just wanted to share the good news. I also promised myself to stay away from the scale for the rest of the weekend. The tux fits with room to spare and my sister, who hasn’t seen me since June was impressed with the change. I’ll simply remind myself of the goal to keep my weight at this level and for now will focus on getting married tomorrow. With Jeff at my side, the world couldn’t be more wonderful.