Making Progress

Taking a Picture of Myself in the Mall Bathroom — 182 lbs, Jan 28, 2013

I stepped on the bathroom scale this morning, and it read 182 and change, for the fourth time in the last four days. If you recall, for most of last week my weight was hovering around 184, and I couldn’t figure out why. I still don’t know why; the best I can come up with is that I caught a cold on the 17th, and while I was sick, I was unable to lose weight (but there’s no good proof of that).

In my writing projects, I commonly hit stagnation blockages of a similar sort. You’d think I’d be used to them by now.

However, after not making any progress for almost a week (more precisely, 6 days), to see my weight drop to 182.8, then to 182.6, then to 182.4…

I experienced a bout of acute joy.

So much so that I felt inspired to take a quick photo in the mall bathroom mirror this morning.

My pants no longer stay up by themselves. (Seriously.) I dug out from the back of my dresser an old belt that used to be two sizes too small. It now fits my waist wonderfully, but pulls my jeans into a baggy bunch at the top. For the time being I guess I’ll have to wear my overshirt on the outside, so I don’t look too much like a homeless guy who can’t afford pants that actually fit.

Same jeans, when they still fit — August 13, 2012

(Compare the picture of me from this past August, after I had lost “only” ~10 pounds from the time my doctor had used the term “pre-diabetic”— OMG! I just realized, A/B comparing these photos, I really have gotten smaller, haven’t I? And not just from around the waist.)

Last week, though, to have tried, succeeded for a little, then to have begun failing (or stalling), I felt a little like life was playing mind games with me. No fun. Discouraging.

Small setbacks should never be a reason to stop trying. I don’t know how many times I’ve given up because of discouraging setbacks. I’ve lost count. But one of my resolutions (as it were) this year is to seek motivation to pursue the changes I believe in, even if they seem out of reach.

So months from now, after I’ve lost the 15 or so pounds I want to lose, and I’m struggling with some writing project or other that doesn’t seem to be going anywhere, and I’m afraid that I’ve reached the end of my emotional rope, I’m going to look back at this moment. I’m going to remember the time when I thought I wasn’t able to reach a healthy weight. And I’m going to keep chugging on.

When that time comes, you remind me of this.

Keep chugging on!