47 at Forty-seven - The Mid-life Crisis Diet Project - Part 11

47 at Forty-seven – The Mid-Life Crisis Diet Project

Part 11: The Rest of June

One poor correspondent – too, too hard to find
Well, it’s about time. I know, I know. I haven’t updated since July. Full disclosure, I’m typing this on Labor Day. The whole summer has come and gone. Sorry. I am so sorry to all of you who have become invested, and are following along and awaiting news. I have come to realize that I have actually embarked on two projects, not just one. I have to lose weight… and write about it. Obviously, I have slipped a bit in the writing department. So, you must be worried that I have abandoned the weight-loss part as well, or that I’ve let myself drink and smoke weed again. Especially when the last weigh-in I left you with was my first backslide. I had actually gained a pound. GAINED! So, let’s check in, shall we? Guess what?

Monday June, 15
Week Fifteen weigh-in (drum roll)…
216 lbs. (Down 29 lbs. 18 to go)

Holy Crap! I gave back another pound – another hard-fought, hard-earned pound. I was not happy, especially because I really watched the intake this week. I was really mad at myself for having to report a gain in the last blog. “Never again”, I said with a British accent to make it a pun.

I don’t like to make excuses, but I really feel I was the victim of my Monday (day after the weekend) weigh-in. This was the second weekend of “Fellowship”, our wonderful Lord of the Rings musical. The delightful Chris Tallman filled in for Brian Bradley, and wanted to celebrate with the cast after Sunday’s show. Mexican food – the night before my weigh-in. Dammit. Oh well. What are going to do? There will be gatherings. There will be friends and special occasions. Not everyone in the world is on my weigh-in schedule. That is so okay. We have to live.

I just knew I had to buckle down in the coming week – even though I was still not on the best exercise regime. The thing making it hard right now was the show schedule. I was exhausting myself doing five shows a week (Thurs, - Sun.), so I didn’t like to workout on show days. Monday I would recoup. That left me only Tuesday and Wednesday for the gym. Well, that would have to be enough for now.

Monday June, 22
Week Sixteen weigh-in (drum roll)…
211 lbs. (Down 34 lbs. 13 to go)

Yes! That’s more like it. I knew last week’s number was falsely elevated. Ha! We’re back on track. What was once a distant, seemingly unreachable goal line now doesn’t feel all that far away at all.

Wasted to Waisted
What about the booze? What about the marijuana? Haven’t touched any – even at our opening night toast. “No Champagne, thank you. I’ll raise my glass of Diet Coke”.

While Michelle visited on that opening weekend, she was my happy audience at home as well, for an impromptu fashion show. I went deep into the closet and started pulling out the stuff I thought I may be getting close to fitting into again. One of the few perks of being acutely single is the luxury of becoming a pack rat. I’ve never had to make room in a closet for anyone else, so tons of the old crap is still there. Occasionally, I suppose I’ve had to let things go, so I wouldn’t be hauled off to prison by the fashion police – so you won’t find the bright gold parachute pants from 1991, or the red jeans. That’s right, I said “red jeans” – only recently disposed of, by the way.

But there was a lot of timeless stuff, like a blue button-down shirt, or a pair of chinos that I had out grown. I was pulling out old sport jackets…and they were buttoning. Holy shit! Size large shirts were fitting. Holy shit! I actually pinched myself into a pair of jeans with a 36 inch waist. When this project started, I was barely fitting into my 40s. Holy shit. Michelle says, I must’ve said “holy shit” thirty times. I still have that pile of clothes I intend to fit into, sitting on the floor next to the closet. But it’s getting smaller, as a few items are already in rotation. The vintage blue tuxedo jacket that I’m wearing in my old “cigarette-in-the-ear” head shot fits again. Hello, old friend.

Look, I got very sedentary and had a pretty bad relationship with food, so I’m certainly not blaming booze and weed for my weight gain. But I have to give them their props as contributing factors. Blamewise? I blame my addictive personality. I blame my weakness for bad habit forming. I blame myself for getting to a place where I didn’t just feel I wanted a drink or a toke – but that I needed one.

Will I ever have drink a again? Oh, of course. I was never a drunk and I’m sure I never will be one. I fully intend to become an occasional social drinker again once I’ve hit my goal weight. But the “3 and 4 drinks most nights” days are gone. The drinking by myself to “take the edge off” days are gone. Will I ever get high again? Oh, of course. Everything works on a “now and then” basis. Have pizza, have ice cream, let loose, let go once in a while. But I have to let these times be cheats, treats - rewards for the predominantly good behavior.

Monday June, 29
Week Seventeen weigh-in (drum roll)…
211 lbs. (Down 34 lbs. 13 to go)

So we’re holding at 211. Not a bad June. The pounds are shedding more slowly now, but I’m okay with that, because it feels real and forevery. I hope losing these last 13 doesn’t take too long. With my luck, as soon as I finish, red jeans will be back in style.