After years of “sort of trying,” I’m almost entirely thrilled to have lost 30 pounds (the “secret” is about love and joy, not suffering, but that’s another article), but there are three big downsides:
1. People don’t know what to say to me. “You look great!” is nice. “Oh, you’re finally losing weight,” not so much. Yesterday @ Men’s Warehouse seeing if suits I bought last year could be tailored, “did this suit actually fit you??” (it was said with an impressed tone.)
2. As alluded above, my clothes don’t fit. Finally cleaned the closet (which looks great empty), but hate to buy many clothes as I’m committed to losing more…
3. Where I used to ignore my weight, now I’m very conscious of how fat I still am.
Patty keeps telling me I look great, and I’ve dropped about 4 or 5 sizes in my slacks, but I don’t quite believe it. Putting on the suit yesterday, I was shocked again. Who’s this guy with the baggy pants? I feel great. And, I’m still overweight (I find “obese” nauseating, but still true according to the annoying little “balance-board guy” in Wii Fit). So there are two stories: huge progress, significant work to do. Which gets more attention? I’ve had decades of thinking myself as fat. And, where I used to just pretend I didn’t care, I’m no longer willing to hang out in Club Denial (though it’s a very comfortable place — they even have cool ‘fun house’ mirrors there).
The thing is, denial is so easy. I didn’t have to think about my choices. Nice warm rolls in a restaurant? Bring on the butter! But now, I see these indulgences as, well, indulgences. Nice to have once in a while, but not a reasonable route for the day to day.
I love how strong I am now — not like I’m ready for a marathon or something, but the other week in Dubai I walked & jogged almost every morning. Voluntarily! I can climb a couple flights of stairs, or do 20 pushups, or other more fun activities and not be short of breath. I’m thrilled that I now actually LIKE exercise (gasp). But at the same time, I’ve become conscious that I don’t like the roll around my middle. So I’ve got this paradox, at the same time loving and disgusted by my body. That might be too strong a word, it’s not self-hate — but almost every day I notice my belly fat and want it gone.
Perhaps the most difficult part of change is that results come slowly. I mean, if I give up on those wonderful indulgences and exercise every day for a WHOLE long week, shouldn’t that produce results? Where’s the payoff?
Intellectually I KNOW that I’m in this for the long haul, it’s a lifestyle change, not a diet. I KNOW I took 30+ years to get into this state and it’s going to take more than a few months to get out of it. I KNOW I should be proud of the progress, and I am pleased with the last six months — in fact last year was one of the best in my life. It’s perplexing. I’ve got more energy than I can remember, I’m eager to get up the morning… and I’ve got a great excuse to buy more clothes! At the very same time, I’m dissatisfied, and I guess I’m afraid to fully believe this “good news.”