Mar. 31st, 2017

osodecanela: (Default)
(Nota bene - this was written back on the 17th but never posted.)

To my surprise last week when I tried on a pair of Wranglers in a 42, more to see if I could get in to them, I could. As always I need to shorten them, and while they're more form fitting than I want, they passed the 'can-I-button-&-zip-them' test easily. I did a happy dance in the fitting room.

I've had an insanely busy week, fairly physically active with little time to get to the gym. Yesterday, i had to go to Santa Rosa for the new car's 5k service, and I took my gym bag with me. The dealership has a shuttle service and ran me to and from the gym. Spent 45 minutes on the elliptical and treated myself to a soak in the spa. Left me a very happy puppy. The news from the scale left me an even happier puppy. Yesterday marked 4 months since I returned to working out and I'm now down a full 50 pounds.

The goal of returning to a normal size feels more tangible than ever. I feel stronger, more flexible and more vital than I have in a very long time.

There's a tall but slightly built Japanese-American guy I first met at the gym 4 months ago. He's a sharp guy, very social and has the gift for gab. Either he's there all day long, or our gym schedules mesh perfectly. He's there almost every time I am, though he's aqua boy there for his swim, while I'm the hamster on the wheel, cruising away on my elliptical. We generally meet in the men's locker. I walked right past him yesterday, buck ass naked fresh from the shower. Despite my weight loss, I've got along way to go before the gym's towels will make it around my waist. He was chatting with another older Asian man, a guy nearly a foot shorter then him. With my move 6 weeks ago to Lake County, this was the first time he had seen me in that time.

"My gawd Doc! How much weight have you lost?" My back was to him as I undid the lock to open my locker. I looked over my shoulder to see a rather startled look on the shorter man's face, and the smile on the Japanese guy.

"50," I replied. "50 in the last 4 months."

I could see the wheels turning on the shorter man's head. He was perhaps a buck and a quarter at most. The idea of someone losing 50 lbs in any amount of time must have been staggering.

"Wow. How much more to go?"
"Not sure. Somewhere between 75 and 90, I suspect."

I smiled. "No. Damn was 50 pounds ago. This is just fluffy." It was his turn to laugh. He ambled over from across the room. "How the hell do you need to lose another 75 pounds?"

"Dude, I weigh 275."
"No, I told you Damn was 50 pounds ago."
"How do you weigh 275?"

It struck me right then this was an odd conversation to be having in the nude. At what point could your obesity not be more apparent? However, I remembered my surprise a week before when I had happily reported to a close friend who is also battling with the bulge about getting into a pair of 42s, that I'm now getting into smaller pants than him despite my being 2 inches shorter and 25 lbs heavier.

I responded, holding out my arm next to his, my ruddy pink complexion contrasting against his deeply tanned brown, my wrist huge in comparison to his lithe one, "first, while most fat people have used the 'I'm big boned' excuse, there are some for who it's true. My frame is wide and bones are heavy. So is muscle. I just ran over 5k (as I flexed my heavily muscled calf and quad at him). Fat is fluffier than those things, not nearly as dense. I still have plenty of that too, but just not as much as most guys my weight, I guess."

Enough naval gazing and story telling for now. I need to go to the gym


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