According to the WiiFit, this morning, I didn't weigh much more than I did last Monday. I didn't weigh a statistically significant amount less, either, a rare break from form, but I regard that as a triumph. You see, last week, I made a pig of myself.
It was the march of a thousand temptations. Monday was the office potluck lunch, everyone bringing in food, and everybody brought in way too much food. I alone brought in two cheesecakes, as deserts, and there's as of today, a week later, more than half of one cheesecake and a quarter of the other left. There were meatballs, ziti, sausage, pierogies, lunch meats, five kinds of cheeses (they were surprised someone was eating so much of the havarti with dill; well, I like havarti, as well as most cheeses). In short, there was a lot of temptation, and I ate. A lot.
But here's the thing: I didn't gain substantial weight. Oh, there were days, Tuesday particularly, that my weight shot up, but I worked it all back off. I stuffed myself, first on Monday, then --- despite my knowing better --- with leftovers Tuesday through Thursday, and then at the pizza party on Friday. And on top of that I missed yoga Wednesday so I could go to Rifftrax, where by the way I had a large popcorn and large Coke Zero. Despite missing that big block of exercise I made up the difference. I can finally say that my weight is really under my control now.
This week, the most food-heavy week I've had, has made clear how this year I took control of my destiny. I could very easily have continued being fat-to-obese, and I changed that. It's ben a lot of hard work, and it's not quite done yet, but ... well, I made it. I mastered a part of my life which I had given up trying to control back in 1985 with awful tuna fish sandwiches made on horrible 'light' 'mayonnaise' and achingly thin bread that tasted like cardboard. In 2009, I mastered my body.
And now I can think what to take over in 2010.
Trivia: Shepherds in Landes, France, would habitually spend whole days walking on ten-foot tall stilts, using an extra pole to form a tripod to rest. These enabled them to walk as much as 75 miles in a day. Source: The Discovery Of France: A Historical Geography, Graham Robb.
Currently Reading: The World Of Mister Dooley, Finely Peter Dunne. Edited by Louis Filler. You know, for 110-year-old humor writings this is surprisingly spry, and a counterexample to the idea that nobody really knew how to be funny before the first steam-powered Robert Benchley was patented in 1922.