This isn’t a topic I broach lightly. My weight has been the albatross that I’ve dragged with me most of my life. In no small part, it has contributed to a litany of health problems for me over the years, either directly or indirectly.
So why bring it up now?
Last Friday I had a cardiology appointment. The appointment went fine, but the real highlight is that this is one of my few opportunities to get my weight (on account of subject line). The significance of this weigh in, almost 8 months now since we moved out here, is that it confirmed just how much weight I have lost. Without going into specifics, I have lost enough weight that I weigh less now than I have in almost ten years. In fact, I’ve lost almost as much weight as one of my daughter weighs (a different problem all together).
While I’m happy, as Facebook readers know (the highlight being that the first digit in my weight has gone down a number), it’s still very sobering. The problem with such a productive weight loss, achieved mostly by shifts in diet and regular walking (yay half mile walks to and from the BART!), is that although productive in losing weight, it isn’t targeted. In fact, if you looked at me today, and had seen my a year ago, you might be hard pressed to realize how much weight I’ve lost. Why?
Because the truth is I haven’t shrunk. I’ve deflated.
I knew this was possible, had even seen other morbidly obese folks that had had dramatic weight loss warn of it, but nobody expects it to be them. Obviously, weight loss, even the deflating kind, is better for me than the alternative. But now I have a new challenge to face – not just weight loss, but getting rid of the deflated flab.
Addendum: Facebook readers will know that I didn’t lose that last significant pound – the one that tipped the leading number in my weight – until this weekend. That’s the benefit of also having a tooth pulled on Friday. It was worth it – the pain was nearly unbearable – but the soft foods diet is a horrible, horrible thing.