Category Archives: Musings

Short Answer or Long Explanation

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The Missus: Would you like to head out to Easter Brunch with some folks after church?
Me: No.
[Pause ]
The Missus: Why not?
Me: …[Long Explanation]…

This happens quite a bit. Not only between me and The Missus. It happens in lots of interactions with lots of folks. It seems the short answer doesn’t suffice.

It’s too bad really.

More often than not the long explanation gets you into an even longer conversation about what you meant by your long explanation.  You don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings or get wrapped up in talking about what you would rather do. Inevitably, you do and you have to tap dance or back pedal or whatever to make sure what you meant is understood in the most benign way possible.

Worse yet, the “I don’t want to talk about it.” or “I just don’t fee like it.” or “No particular reason.” isn’t enough to get you off the hook. There is no way to just say yes or no to something. You always have to explain why.

Forgetting to Eat

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I run into a lot of people who say they forgot to eat.  Too busy. Or something.

I, on the other hand, obsess about eating. WHat’s for dinner?  What’s for lunch?  Is there milk for breakfast?  Is there something sweet in the house?

It’s crazy really.  I read somewhere that people who are fat tend to think about food quite a bit. (Sorry. No foot note. I can’t remember where I read it. Maybe I imagined it.) I can relate.  I think about food quite a bit.  Especially when my mind isn’t occupied with something else.

The worst part is that I’m think about easy things to eat. Things i can just pop into my mouth and consumer quickly as if the act of putting something in my mouth will satisfy some unnameable desire. Or if something goes in my mouth – food, that is – I’ll somehow be satisfied for a period of time.

The sad part is that the quick food fix doesn’t do jack except make me fat. It doesn’t satisfy some unnameable desire and the hunger, if it was ever really there, is still around. Really, it’s the boredom. Put food in my mouth. Return to boredom.

So, no. I’ve never had a problem forgetting to eat. My problem is not forgetting.

Missed A Day

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Yep.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

I really, really, meant to try to get to the gym for my measly 30 minutes on the treadmill but by the time I got out of my 3 hour meeting, got some ink for my printer, had lunch (otherwise known as eating and piling on the calories), it was almost time to get going to my late afternoon meeting.

The worst part of the meetings, of course, is the munchies they have readily available calling my name every 3 minutes. Eat me. Eat me. Eat me. That’s another discipline altogether. Resisting the munchies.

God, where does the time go.

Yeah. I could’ve run home, put on my gym clothes and run out the door to go to the gym.  In fact, that’s what I really should’ve done to build the habit, the repetition, the discipline. But I didn’t do it.  I cam home and vegged just long enough to miss my window of opportunity.

So I’ll try this thing, again, tomorrow. Maybe I’ll try to get to the gym earlier in the morning. That way the day won’t get away from me.

Resistance

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One of the biggest barriers to weight loss, at least any kind of sustained weight loss, is the Smiling man on a treadmill at the gymresistance you run into. This resistance comes mostly from myself.

I’m too tired. The gym is too far. I ache. I can do it tomorrow.

All kinds of things play around in my mind to keep me from exercising. These exercise resistance gremlins are different from the eating gremlins. The exercise resistance is a lot mental with a tad bit of physical thrown in.

Today was the perfect example.

I had a pretty busy morning. Part of it was taken up in physical therapy for a neck issue. It’s hard to turn my neck due to some degeneration bought on by age. It’s know as arthritis. Anyway, the session usually involves some light exercise and some guy working my neck to try and loosen it up and elongate it a bit.

Long story short. When I get out of that, it takes about an hour for the aches and pains to set in but they start to make themselves know. I just want to sit back. Tune in some New Age music and doze.

Even after the “power nap” I didn’t really feel like doing anything. But, I forced myself to get into some gym clothes and get in the car and go.  I did my half hour on the treadmill and came home.

Believe it or not, yesterday’s walk wasn’t so bad. Today, I actually broke a sweat and felt, if not exhausted, than pretty damn tired from the same settings – 30 minutes, 2.6 mph, 0% incline – that I used yesterday.

The other part of the resistance comes from getting on the scale this morning after being so virtuous and doing my leisurely 30 minute walk only to find out I gained a pound. My mind immediately starts reminding me that no matter what I do I’m doomed to exist in this 300 lb body and, who knows, I may even get heavier and heavier and heavier. Pre-destination.  John Calvin’s not dead. He’s living in my head.

The bottom line is that I need to break through the resistance. I need to build the habit. I need to power through the 21 days or whatever it takes to keep going. The resistance is brutal.

So This Is What The Gym Looks Like?

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I had a few errands to run to day but mostly they were things I could do later in the day or, really, later in the morning. After all, I was only planning to spend a ½ hour on the treadmill.

The MIssus went off to work (I work from home) and I jumped in the shower to  get rid of the bed head hair and at least brush my teeth. I put on my gym clothes and sneakers and headed out the door.

The gym I go to is about a 7 minute drive from door-to-door. That’s counting the traffic lights and the time it takes to park. When I go – usually mid morning – there are people at the gym but not nearly enough where I have to wait for a treadmill to open up. In fact, it’s busy when there is someone on the treadmill next to me. Usually, I get empties on either side.

The place really doesn’t change. Six monitors high against the wall showing about 4 different things. News, sports,music videos. It’s the music videos that they blast throughout the gym. That’s why I figured out it was a good idea to bring my iPhone in and listen to Pandora. At least, I could choose what I was listening to and it would be right in my ears so it would drown out whatever is popular these days.

The visuals are a bit distracting. Television always hypnotized me. If I walk into a room with a TV on it doesn’t matter if it’s the most maudlin soap opera or a cartoon, I become transfixed. The gym is the same way except that I try to keep my mind off the monitors by continuously moving my vision across the different scenes and then back to the treadmill read outs.

30 minutes at 2.6 mph at 0% incline. It burnt, according to the treadmill, 204 calories based on my weight.  That’s the nice thing about gym treadmills. You plug in information about yourself and it provide an almost customized result. 204 calories is not quite the two pieces of toast I had this morning…and certainly doesn’t cover the raspberry jam and Frosted Mini Wheats with 1% milk.

Nevertheless, it’s better than nothing which is what I was doing before today. The MIssus even gave me a little attaboy in the evening. (Typically, she would scoff at such a small amount of calories burned but I think she realizes she needs to be supportive of even the smallest effort) 

Tomorrow?  The morning is jammed up with appointments. That means I’ll need to go in the afternoon. I really, really, really need to make this a habit.

Ending Day One

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I been reading this book - Half-Assed: A Weight-Loss Memoir -
about a woman who lost over 200 lbs. That’s a lot of weight. According to the book, she was topped out at 372. That, I’m proud to say is 67 lbs more than I weighed this morning.

Maybe not so proud.

Most people would be aghast as someone getting close to 400 lbs. Most people are aghast at people over 300 lbs. It’s just that most people are too polite to say anything out loud. Even doctors have stopped tilting at windmills. Every doctor I see (and it’s three plus the dentist) has said I should lose weight. But after they’ve said it the first time and, maybe the second time, they stop saying it.

Instead they make modest suggestions that modest exercise would be a good start. Just a  ½ hour a day. Just a little walking. Nothing extreme.

Good Intentions

I had good intentions this morning combined with a healthy dose of disgust at how I let myself get to this point. I wanted to moderate my eating, do some moderate exercise and, hopefully, get on the scale tomorrow morning to a smaller number on the scale.

Instead, I ate some the sweets the Missus and I bought at the Amish Farmers Market yesterday (and I lot of them, too!). I ate bread. Dinner was a ham and egg omelette with three eggs and two pieces of toast followed by the lemon poppy seed “bread” (really cake without the icing).

Arrrrrgh!

What is going wrong?

And, no. I didn’t exercise. I meant to take some time to go to this gym I’m sending money to every month just to get on the treadmill for a ½ hour. Just like the 372 girl in the book did.

Maybe tomorrow.

Over The Top

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It seems that every time I listen to one of those hypnotic weight loss CDs or start reading about how this person or that person lost a whole lot of weight – lot meaning over 200 lbs – I actually start gaining weight.

I know, at some level, I’m trying to pawn off my personal responsibility for stuffing my body with tons of sugar and starch. Yet, I can’t help but feel there might be a kind of reverse effect from this stuff. You know. Read about weight loss and I figure that’s all it’ll take.

I’ve also been throwing hundreds of dollars away at a local gym because I’ve been paying their monthly fee and not going (the perfect client for the gym). I’ve tried counting calories and joined a website that helps me keep track but I end up frustrated, hungry and eventually stop counting.

Now I find myself at the absolute heaviest I’ve been in my entire life. I weighed n this morning at 305 lbs. That’s a lot of weight. My blood pressure is high and I’m on drugs for that. I have sleep apnea. I’m going through physical therapy for what is essentially arthritis in my neck. My left hip aches (more arthritis) and reduces a little (just a little) of my mobility mostly in the raising and lowering of my leg.

Long story short, I’m falling apart physically and it’s mostly due to being grossly – morbidly – overweight.

I really, really, really have to get hold of myself.

Irony of the Restaurant Booth

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It always strikes me as odd that restaurants have such uncomfortable seating…for fat people.

Restaurant BoothMaybe it’s because the really nice restaurants that all the foodies go to don’t want to be perceived as the cause for obesity. On one level, they’re not. Eating – what and how much – is a personal choice and a personal responsibility.  Yet, isn’t it the restaurants that provide the overly large portions of everything?

I’ve gotten really fat. No question. I eat poorly and exercise infrequently. That’s my fault.

I don’t always go to restaurant that serve healthy food that’s also well prepared. That’s also my fault. Yet, I wonder why on earth any restaurant allows booths designed with immovable tables and immovable benches.

I’m sure that, at some point in the process, the owner or chef is sitting down with the interior designer or architect or whoever and planning out how many people they want to cram into the space they have allotted. They’re probably discussing how often a table will turn and, in order to expedite that process, how to make the seating so that it’s comfortable but not too comfortable.

Thus, the tight booth and the tables that are way to close to one another.

I visited a restaurant this morning to meet a friend for breakfast. It has a great reputation and pricing to match.

At first, they hostess offered us a smallish, two person only table within about two feet of the next table. The table situation would have been optimal for my girth but it was really intrusive for our conversation.  I really prefer not to  be too close to someone else. I don’t really want to listen on on their conversations and I would prefer they don’t listing to mine no matter how inadvertently.

So, we were offered a booth. The table was fixed and immovable as were the benches. Luckily, I was able to squeeze in. Barely.  My friend was kind enough not to say anything. So I said it myself: “I need to lose weight”.

Quite frankly, it was uncomfortable. To top it off, of course, the portions at this particular eatery were generous. So, on the one hand, I need to make wise choices about what food to put in my mouth so I can fit comfortably into restaurant booths. On the other hand, restaurants promote over eating with large portions cooked with plenty of fat, sugar, salt and calories.

Ironic?

 

What Next?

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Have you ever found yourself wondering, “What next?”

The car needs tires. And some general engine repair. Thousands of dollars of dental work needs to be done. Those shoes you’ve been wearing for the last ten years…the ones you’ve had re-soled a couple of times. Yeah. They’ve finally bitten the dust.

Money. Lots and lots of money. The inconvenience and the sense that life is not only a matter of of waiting for the other shoe to drop. It’s wondering, “What’s next?”

Prosperity

There is the abundance and prosperity crowd. The positive thinking folks. Everything is the way it’s supposed to be. Everything happens for a reason. As one door closes another opens. You’re perfect just the way you are.

Yeah. I guess.

Breakthrough

I keep waiting for the breakthrough. The moment in my life when the light bulb goes off over my head. The ah ha.

It hasn’t come yet. Maybe it never will.

As much as I listen and want to believe the positive thinking folks, I can’t help but notice a whole lot of people in the world (the 99%?) that don’t quite seem to make it. I’m not taking about abject poverty or the n’er do wells. I’m talking about the people who just seem to scratch out a day to day existence.

Most of the time I feel like that..and I hate it.

Laziness

The sad part is that I seem to be stuck with the inertia of laziness. Floating around the blogoshpere, playing on Facebook and Twitter and Pinterest and YouTube and…and…and.

The worst part, for me, is that everybody has the magic formula. Do it this way and you’ll be rich and happy. They all sound so convincing. I just can seem to get motivated to do anything.

 

Should Your Doctor Pay You?

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Stethoscope and dollar billWe’ve all been there.

You make the appointment with your doctor. It may be the first time you’re seeing this particular physician or dentist. Or it may be someone you’ve been seeing a long time. Either way… you’ve probably seen the sign in the office or the notice in the paper work.  Words to the effect:

“If you need to cancel your appointment you must notify this office at least 24 hours hours (sometimes 48 hours) in advance or you will be billed for the missed appointment.”

Of course, this is a way to make sure the doctor stays busy seeing paying patients all day long.  It’s even more important if the patient has decent health insurance.  You better believe the health insurance company isn’t going to pay for a missed appointment.

But what if the doctor is the one who bails on you?

This happened to me recently.

I had set up an appointment with a rheumatologist I had seen years and years ago.  He has a good reputation in the medical community and both my dermatologist and primary physician know him or know of him. All good.

This rheumatologist has a great website and a friendly staff.  Of course, you have to fil out a ton of paperwork and, conveniently, it’s on the website.  So far, so good.

The only problem, of course, is he can’t see me right away.  He’s a busy guy.  Good reputation and all that.  So I make an appointment for several weeks away. No big deal. I don’t have a life threatening issue. Lots of people have it worse than me and I’ve been living with this particular pain in my neck (literally) for months.

The appointed day arrives (note: appointed day…as in I have an appointment for that day).  I get a call from a chipper staff member telling me that the good doctor called in sick that day and she’ll need to set up a new appointment.

OK. Fine.

Here’s the thing.  The appointment isn’t for the next day. It’s not even for anytime in the next week. It’s another full three weeks away.

Huh?

The Bill’s in the mail

Of course, I go along. The staff member is very chipper and apologetic and she’ll see if she can fit me in with the first cancellation (remember cancellations? the one’s you need to make or get billed for if you don’t.)

I do get a call a couple of days later for a ½ hour slot the next day.  The next day my schedule is booked, thank you very much, and as much as I’d like to drop everything and rearrange my schedule to accommodate the good doctor, I don’t do it.  I stick with the original, re-scheduled appointment.

What I would love to do, of course, is send this rheumatologist a nice, fat bill for the missed appointment. Of course, I need to betolerant, understanding and compassionate about the fact that he was sick. Certainly nothing that he scheduled (let’s hope it wasn’t a hangover from the previous day’s playoff games).

I mean who knows that the one day I had an appointment would also be the day he would be sick.

So, no, the bill is not in the mail. He would probably laugh it off anyway. Or cop an attitude or something.  He’s the doctor and I just want to stay on his good side so he’ll treat me and listen to me about my ailment and not do something rash.

Still, wouldn’t it be nice if when the doctor cancels you could send the bill for the time you arranged to take off (several hours, if not the whole day), arrange for day care or whatever else needs to happen.

Yeah. It would be nice.

I’m not holding my breath.