I hit the magic number

Hmm? What’s that you say?

Oh… oh, I see… thanks, but no, this isn’t a good thing. I haven’t won the lottery, or any such happy event. No, I’ve breached (whale terminology not accidental) the limit I set for myself for weight gain.

Like many of us in these Covid times, I’ve put on some extra pounds while I’ve been at home. I’m not confused by it–the math of not moving around as much as I used to (which already wasn’t enough)+being at home more where food/snacks are a scant handful of steps away from pretty much anywhere in the house, is pretty straight-forward–but I’m not okay with it.

A few weeks back I noticed my increasing weight, which I rarely actually check, had gotten as high as it ever has. So I decided then and there to buckle down and make a concerted effort to lose some of it. I cut way down on snacking (on many days, zero happening at all), plus watched my portion sizing, plus got in notably more exercise.
Nine days later, because I know these things can take a bit of time to see any real results, I stepped onto the scale and…?

I’d gained half a pound.

Now listen… I’m a reasonable guy. I don’t ask for a lot in life. But when someone who likes his food is genuinely trying to make a difference in his weight, denying himself what he likes while making himself do what he doesn’t like (eating and exercise, respectively), the universe has the right–nay, obligation–to reward that effort with a bit of a drop in weight.

Because you know what that would do? It would let me know I’m on the right track. Way to go, big shooter, the universe would be saying. You did the right thing for a little while and saw a little positive result from that. So hey, why not do more of that same right thing to see even more positive results?
But no. Instead it’s yawning and saying, Yep, you did the right thing and added a bit more suffering to your lot in life to make it happen. To show you it was worth all the extra stress and discomfort, here’s the opposite of what you were working toward. Keep it up. Or don’t. Whatever.

I’ve now officially put on 25% more weight since my lowest point, about a decade ago. And because it wasn’t a situation where I was scrawny back then and have now weight-lifted and protein shake-d myself to adding that much in pure, shredded muscle, which would’ve been a good thing, it’s… y’know… an issue.

So what choice do I have?

Because hey, you know what’s not working? Not moving around a lot and eating too much (and of the wrong things). And you know what works (at least according to decades of professional expertise and the experience of everyone on the planet who isn’t me)? Eating better and getting more exercise.

And hopefully, in time beyond evidently nine days hence, I’ll start reversing that sad trend.

Having said that, I’m having a tooth extracted in a few days, so if that happens to weigh 30 pounds, I’m in a much better position than I thought.

Stay tuned.