Weaver's Web

This is going to have to be a brief post; we’re about to have another power outage due to Highwinds. Personally, as bloody inconvenient as it is, I’m OK with it. Better than a wildfire.

I’m now at the 30 pound point (for weight loss that is) since the end of June. I am at once thrilled, and not so happy with where I am. My progress is steady and I am seeing the results of what I’m doing, but the reality of where I am is not a place that I wanna stay.

For many years I could stand in front of a mirror & not see what was there. The reality of my severe obesity, was simply too painful to fully accept. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Well, I have come to accept that the mirror and a reliable scale are important tools & in someway, friends.

In early October, someone was giving away a mirrored closet door, which I snagged, brought home, & installed into my walk in closet & immediately in front of it placed my old office scale (a Detecto medical office scale from the 1950s). Every morning, without fail, I walk into the closet, and buck naked step onto the scale. It’s reality testing. It allows me to see where I am, understand my current truth, and continue to do what I need to do to become a person of “normal weight”. As a diabetic and hypertensive man, for my own state of health it’s what I need to do.

Further, I want to be as unencumbered as I possibly can be. The years of the inflammatory arthritis May be over (at least for the time being), but I still have to contend with the damage that was done & I will be in much more mobile, with less pain, if I rid myself of at least another 65 pounds, if not more. That prospect is extremely enticing.

There are multiple benefits, not just healthwise, though that’s my primary motivator. While I no longer stand out as freakishly obese (at least in the United States - in Guatemala, or Viet Nam, I’m still the size of a family of four.), Society simply treats people of size differently & not well. We’re about to travel south for Thanksgiving with my family and I know that the bag I pack, will be easily half again as large as the one my husband packs. My clothing takes up significantly more room than his. Even when I want to travel white, the concept remains elusive.

Where am I headed? A good question, to which I don’t have a full answer. Right now my goal is at least a loss of another 65 pounds which would put me at 200 pounds even. That’s a full 20 pounds more than when I graduated from college & I am a full inch and a half shorter than I was that day. 200 pounds on my 5‘7“ frame, albeit wide one, is still a generous amount for me to carry.

Life has been in tumult. We’re driving forward with our move to our old property at the River from the place we purchased at the Lake. We were unable to sell the River house, largely due to the road that Mother Nature took out with a landslide back in February 2017 and that the county never did a proper permanent repair on. The road was open, but frightening if we have a further slip. Lowball offers were not things we were willing to consider.

Anyway with the two places less than 2 hours apart we’re doing the bulk of the move ourselves, one carload at a time. Gives me a chance to sort, and do a Marie Kondo, not that divestiture is my strong suit. Today I’ll be sorting through footware and by the weekend listing stuff on eBay. Note, we’re leaving a rare amount of things at the Lake to stage it for sale.

In the midst of all this there were wildfires here in Northern California that had us evacuated out of the River House back to the Lake, a 6 day preventative power outage PG&E instituted to prevent wildfires (not that it worked; the Kincaid fire appears likely to have been sparked by a power line they didn’t turn off. Ungh.) & on top of all of it my 11 yo husky cross was diagnosed with cancer and needed surgery. The days are running into each other and I’m not fully sure which way is up.

Our evacuation order got lifted Wednesday evening & we got power back at both the Lake and the River within hours of each other. I returned to Sonoma Thursday morning, car filled with the contents of the fridge and freezer (very well traveled groceries- they left with us when we evacuated,) and the dog across the back seat. I got to the vet in Sebastopol at 8:30am after a 2 hour drive. Despite having walked before we left and the moment we got out of the car, he decided to take a dump at the bottom of the Vet’s stairs, thus making clear what he thought about the situation.

Though I promised myself I would keep it together, I choked up chatting with the vet pre-op. She did her b st to be reassuring without sugar coating. The good news it’s a rule of tumor that tends to spread locally and can be aggressive locally, but does not tend to metastasize distantly. Then I drove back to the River house.

Over 2 & a 1/2 years the road has gone without its permanent repair. What did I find when I got the the slide site? Road crews. Earth moving equipment. Piles of steel I beams. And the road blocked 1/4 mike away from my driveway. Really? You’re doing this right now? This will be our new normal WHILE we’re now in the process of moving back. Weekdays until the end of the year, the road will be blocked for the majority of the day, 7am thru 5:30pm. Trash will not be picked up. Mail will now be delivered. I pulled back 10 yards, parked and started carrying things to the house. When I got back for my second trip, after putting 55 lbs of frozen food away, the crew moved things out of the way for me and broke for lunch.

At 6, I drove out to get Arjuna. Poor pooch was stoned out of his gourd. He’d been given 2 mg of Dilaudid for pain post operatively and was awake, but far from steady on his feet. There was good news; the sarcoma which had grown disturbingly quickly in the past few months, was infected. Yes there was a cancer, but infection and pus were behind a good portion of the apparent size of the mass. It’s been cleaned out and antibiotics should take care of the rest. I bring him back for a wound check Thursday. Till then he’s bandaged paw to shoulder and wearing the cone of shame.

All this upheaval has made for a good calorie burn for me. I dropped 20 pounds between the end of June and the beginning of October, I’m now down another 7. With luck it will be between 30 & 35 by Thanksgiving. I dearly would like to be south of 250 by New Years. We shall see. Ultimately, I hope to be at 200 by blthis time next year.

When I left the practice 18 months ago I was no longer making it to the gym once or twice a week. I wasn’t walking a couple of miles several times a week. I was in survival mode, doing everything I needed to do to earn a living. Sounds like the American condition, no?

These days I’m at the gym minimum of twice a week, & sometimes as many as five. Each time I log in a minimum of a half hour run, which generally translates to 2 2/3 miles. Acquiring this property means being physically active to take care of it. My husband is out right now painting the house. I’ve just come in from spending a solid hour weeding. With the advent of spring, the weeds are growing, well, like weeds. Irises are everywhere on this property, as are Jupiter’s Beard. Unfortunately, weeds have sprung up intermingled with those plants, preventing me from simply mowing them down. They have to be hand pulled. I just finished a section roughly 20 ft.² at the corner of the house near the bedroom. That took me a solid hour, during which I filled a 60 gallon trash can, tamped down firmly, all the way to the brim. It was too heavy to simply carry out to our green waste bin in front of the property. I had to drag it.

I use that Lose It application on my iPhone to track my food intake and calorie expenditures. If it’s to be believed, breakfast came to 445 cal, and my weeding expended 444. Before the cup of coffee I’m nursing, and the orange I just snacked on, I was at a net calorie of one for my day. None too shabby, particularly since I’d really like to be at goal weight within the year.

When I consider life over the last 18 months, there have been plenty of stressors, but on the whole I would say that life has been much better. I wake up rested. I have more energy. I smile more. My sex life is better (likely one of the reasons both I & my husband smile more). For years when patients asked how to lose weight, the first thing I said was, “M. Y. A.”. When the puzzled look invariably came, I spelled it out instead of spelling it out. “Move your ass.” (Actually, even more often my comment was “mueves las nalgas”, which without fail drew first a look of surprise, followed invariably by laughter. Did my doctor just told me to move my ass?) The real issue however for many, was where was adequate time to be physically active, or at least physically active enough to compensate for the number of calories taken in. I certainly wasn’t.

In the last 4 ½ years, 5X shirts became 4X shirts and in the last 18 months, became 3X, then 2X. I am just starting to get into some of my larger XL’s. (This last is not as impressive as it sounds; there are still a handful of 2X’s in my closet that are still a little too formfitting for my taste, but just a few.) No longer do I wander into a clothing store wondering if they will have pants that fit me. Most did not carry the 58’s that I wore 4 ½ years ago, nor the 52’s or 54’s of 18 months ago. Finding jeans in a size 42, or dress slacks and a 44 is no challenge, and these days often no more in price than standard sizes. A telling statement is at this point in the US shirts that are a 2X or pants that are size 42 or 44 ARE standard sizes. I can find them at Costco, not just in the catalog or online, but in the store. What does this say about the state of health in the USA? It certainly explains why there is an epidemic of diabetes, hypertension & heart disease.

Given my personal issues with gluten, and the reality that the two times I have been ‘wheat poisoned’ (for which I paid dearly) both happened in restaurants with gluten-free menus, I am much more comfortable preparing nearly everything I eat, at home, in my own kitchen, where I have control over what goes into it and what doesn’t. While I was working 65 hours a week, not so much. Who the hell had the time? I surely didn’t. These days, 90 to 95% of what goes into my mouth I fix in my own kitchen. I get to control not just the gluten content, but the fat, protein and carbohydrate. I choose the seasonings. I choose what sauce it’s going to have, if any. I decide not just what vegetables I’m going to consume, but if they’re fresh, frozen, or canned, whether they’re conventionally grown or organic. In an era where your typical American household had one stay-at-home spouse/parents/partner, fast food/take out/pre-prepared foods were much less the norm. More importantly, the size of the typical American was smaller and along with it the incidence of morbidity that’s come from along with this modern life style.

Enough navel gazing, time to get back to chores.

You may have noticed a tag on many of my posts - body reclamation. When I left practice 17 months ago I promised myself it meant my personal needs came off the back burner. Just prior to Thanksgiving ‘16, I started back to the gym. That’s when my weight really started to drop again. I’d dropped roughly 50# once I entered remission four and a half years ago, but it was a slow go; my gym time was limited.

My progress was steady thru roughly last September. Then I hit a plateau.

I got down to the low 260’s. Worse thru the end of the year, while I actually lost inches, getting into smaller clothing, my weight edged up to the low 270’s. It was disheartening. I continued at the gym, and kept walking the walk, probably indulging in more chocolate than I should.

In the last few weeks, my weight has finally started dropping again. I’m back down to the low 260’s.

I’m now starting to get into the XLs hanging in my closet. I wore an XL oxford shirt yesterday, an XL field coat today. I hemmed a pair of 42” Levi’s today after walking the dog. They’re not tight. They fit me well. Hopefully though, not for too long.

I’m finally able to look at the mirror and not cringe. I no longer worry about throwing on a tank, other than remembering I need to put on sunscreen first. The weightlifting I’m doing at the gym is having an effect.

Sitting and relaxing with a glass of an ancient Chardonnay, past its prime, but still drinkable. It’s been a busy day. I’ve been in the kitchen most of the day. I’d hope go get to the gym but didn’t finish with kitchen stuff till now, and that’s only if you discount the gf breadcrumbs drying out in the oven.

Last week I set my exercise goal to be a week where I ran a minimum of 2 miles a day, plus something else at the gym. I did achieve that, finishing out that week New Years Day, having run 17 miles over the week. I’m also lifting weights. I like the results, but unlike the running which I enjoy, the lifting I find tedious at best. I’m doing it because if I don’t, as I lose weight my nipples will be approaching my waistline. Over the course of the year the weight I’m lifting has increased. Chess presses started at 60# and have gradually increased to the 110# I’m moving now.

I’ve been thinking about my goals for this year. They need to be firm but realistic. I am less than easy with resolutions, but I do need to be resolute. To this end my annual goal is to run a minimum of 5 times per week and a minimum of 2 miles each time. More is acceptable both distance and frequency. FYI, I hit two miles at about 23 minutes in.

So what have I been up to in the kitchen? Well gluten boy here was out of gluten free breadcrumbs. No more eggplant parmigiana without them. The local grocery outlet had gf hamburger buns for a song. I’ve toasted 3 packages of them and with herbs and garlic granules were put through the cuisinart. The last batch is in the oven now. I also snagged two pork sirloins that were marked down by half. I butchered them today, seasoned with dry rubs of different types and vacuum packed them all. They’re now in the freezer, 22 loin chops and two roasts.

What else kept me kitchen bound? I had two 7# blocks of cheese to break down, one Swiss, the other Gouda both imported from Finland. Those are now in 3/4 pound blocks & vacuum packed as well. I also snagged three rotisserie chickens at the local market next to the gym yesterday. I stripped the meat yesterday to use in chicken salad and enchiladas. That’s now vacuum packed and in the deep freeze. Finally, the last of the persimmons I harvested from our tree just before Thanksgiving, were scooped from their skins and dropped into my large crockpot, blended with Vietnamese cinnamon and my homemade vanilla and by this time tomorrow night will be persimmon butter.

Alright, time to put this down for now. The breadcrumbs are due to come out of the oven & I need to shower. I have a bittersweet duty tomorrow. A friend in the city is marrying his partner of 10 years at the skilled nursing facility where his partner is currently. His time grows short, likely less than 6 months and while they still can they’re jumping the broom together.

Dumb....

It’s Thanksgiving and we’re in LA. My mother, as well as my sister’s entire family have flown into town for the holiday, hosted by her sister-in-law. My husband and I drove down. This is the is every other year routine.

We’ve rented places in Venice a mile apart.

The bulk of the young people, my sister in tow, hit a spin class this morning. Joan referred to the instructor as a Spin Nazi. My husband and I slept in and after love making, I took a bike from our rental hosts and rode over to my gym’s nearest franchise 2 1/2 miles away, and hit the elliptical for a run. I was feeling really good & mid way through what was a planned 5k, decided to go for 5 miles instead. In the end, 5 miles came and went & I went for a full 10k. I kept going till I was at a solid hour long run, ultimately 6.3 miles. I was tired, but physically felt fine. Then I rode back, showered and we headed over to my sister’s place, and a few hours later on to her sister-in-law’s for a large gathering of some 45 people.

The fare was tasty and overly plentiful. I was one of 4 there tonight with gluten issues (my sister being another) and so there were lots of options for me to choose from. I’m regretting the desserts. I’d made both GF persimmon scones, as well as caramel quinoa almond blondies, and my sister made double chocolate GF brownies. We’d cut them into reasonable portion sizes. Jess and Adam brought a chocolate almond merangue cake from a local specialty bakery. Adam too has the issue and this is their go to when they have to bring a dessert to a potluck. Jess cut me a slice that was sizable enough for two, if not three. I regret to say I actually ate it all, rationalizing it was ok after that extended run I’d had earlier.

It was good, fabulous actually, but way too rich and too much. It’s just laying in my gut & I’m not enjoying the feeling. So much for that extended run’s benefits.


When we got back to our rental, we hit the sack and did what happily married couples do when alone and frisky. Immediately, I discovered my nipples are off limits. I hadn’t covered them with bandaids and they’re chaffed up big time. Duh. What was I thinking? Worse, half an hour in, as I was nearing the finish line, I was hit by an excruciating charley horse, not in my calf, but the inner portion of my left quad. With any muscle spasm, stretching it out is key to breaking the spasm and with it, the pain. Figuring out how to stretch out your inner quad isn’t easy, especially when you’re in agony.

Needless to say, our sex came to an screeching halt; excruciating pain is one helluva mood killer. I’m now ensconced on the couch with my feet up. Contemplating lying down again, but worried that the Charlie horse will recur. Over exertion is a typical trigger- like running a 10k when you’re just used to running 5s. The spasm is gone for the moment, but my lower inner quad on the left now hurts to touch.

I’m bloody frustrated and angry with myself. I did this to myself & worse, I know better! I feel like a Bloody idiot.

A very sore, bloody idiot.

I've just had an absolutely fabulous time.

So my first cousin Steve's middle child, Matt married his fiancé, Adam this afternoon. My husband and I flew out for the occasion and my lord, what a time we've all had! A Jewish wedding under a chupah, two of their friends, an older gay Jewish couple officiating, the wedding coupl's siblings, parents, & surviving grandparents all in attendance, including two grandmothers well into their respective 90s & all involved in the ceremony. Watching both sets of parents marching their sons up the aisle left me with tears streaming quietly down my face, as my husband & I sat there to witness it, my elderly mother sitting between us.

Such a long way we have come.

Hearing my mother this past Thursday tell a friend calling to see if she would join them for cards that night, "I can't this week. My son is visiting with my son-in-law. They're here from California." Completely matter of fact. I'm still a bit flabbergasted it's become second nature for her as well as the remainder of my family.

So, as of 8 hours ago, my husband and I are no longer the only married same sex couple in our family. For my cousin and his bridegroom, it was less of a novel and political act, than it was for my husband and I, who were one of the 18,000 couples who wed in California during the window between mid June and Election Day back in '08.

My other real joy is my other foray into normalcy. When we last saw my family just before Thanksgiving last the occasion was our nephew's wedding. That was also now 74 pounds ago. I have graduated from being THAT fat guy to just a guy who's fat. Now I was feeling truly frustrated about clothes for this wedding. We both wore guayaberas to our wedding, thoughts one I wore is now more of a tent. For the last 4 months, I've reliably fit into 2Xs. The remaining guayaberas I still had in 3X all swim on me, so I ordered two over the net, actually is eBay. I had one come to the house, and the other, from a NJ vendor l, sent directly to mom's. They were both Cubavera brand, tho differently styled. Both proved to be too small for me to wear yet. I did try one on at the big and tall back in Santa Rosa and the 2x there did fit. I just wasn't willing to shell out $70 plus tax for a dress shirt that hopefully will be too big for me by the end of the year.

The frustration of buy of one, but two shirts that should have fit, coupled with the weight plateau I've been on for nearly two months had been wearing on me. I was feeling extremely fat again. Sitting down on he plane was heartening. Not only was no seat belt extension needed, I had plenty of length to spare. Moreover, the tray table not only came down completely, I had several inches to slide it back towards my gut! Say amen!!

Further, I've had no trouble moving this week. A 5K Monday was followed by a 2 mile runs on Tues., Sat., & today, as well as a 15 mile bike ride around lower Manhattan with my husband and sister on Friday. My plateau appears to have ended according to mom's scale, which has fallen 4 lbs over the course of this week, which I think is a real loss, as my pants are fitting considerably better on Sunday, than when I packed them on Monday.

I danced today. Horas, as is obligatory at any Jewish wedding, including the chair dance, where the men in the crowd hoisted both grooms into the air, bobbing them up and down as they each held the end of a kerchief, trying simultaneously not to get tossed off the chairs to the floor. My weight lifting has paid off. Adam is the heavier of the two, likely I think 170 & I was one of the 5 who hoisted him skyward.

I danced! Not just the hora, but every chance I got, including 5-6 minutes flinging Matt about in a West Coast swing, even dipping him half way the the floor a time or three. The look on his face was classic. WTF? I've always had a powerful lead, but never had I had the opportunity to dance with Matt or any male relative till today. I had stopped dancing many years ago. With the inflammatory arthritis it was just too hard. To boot I got out of breath way too easily, way too quickly. Well not today. I danced a bit at my nephew's wedding last year. Today however, it was pretty much every dance. I lead numerous partners through west coast swing moves, my sister, several cousins including one of the grooms, as well as his mother & even my husband. None of the 20 and 30 somethings had done swing before, but as I said, I have a powerful lead. I made it work. My ankles may be none but ok happy with me in the morning, but I happily danced the night away, getting good and sweaty, but never once getting out of breath. I'm so bloody jazzed I can't even describe how happy I am.

Add to it all, Matt and Adam are theater people. Adam is in entertainment law, while Matt at one time did regional theater. Their social crowd are theater people. A swing dancer in their midst was a surprise to many of them, especially an older, and still heavy relative, but the number of people who came over to me expressing their surprise on just how light on my feet I am, assured me I was not out of place.

A rather talented drag queen provided much of the entertainment during the wedding reception and the piano bar/cabaret that followed. A large number of people attending the wedding sang. I was one of the earlier singers and drag queen (stage name Cacophony) both performed and MC'd. Her introduction for me started, "I suspect most of you noticed this gentleman on the dance floor tonight. Well he not only dances, he sings. Weaver, please come up here." I went for classic Gershwin - Someone to Watch Over Me . I sang this at my own wedding and was determined I'd do it for theirs. There I was, in a room full of theatre people, on stage singing and it went over splendidly. Matt's younger sister is doing regional theater professionally, and has a voice nothing shy of angelic. She was one of several who sang during the ceremony. She came to me as her parents both hugged me, to tell me my phrasing was perfect. All my cousins of my generation, having not heard me sing since my own Bar Mitzvah almost 50 years ago were uniformly stunned.

Alright, enough navel gazing for now; I need to get horizontal.

Last week after almost two weeks away from the gym I had an emotional recommitment. I promised myself this wasn't going to continue, that no matter what's going on in my life, I still need to get to the gym.

Recently, I took my mountain bike in for a tuneup so I could start riding again. I'm not mountain biking; I use it as a road bike. Why a mountain bike? Short answer: my weight. These bikes are built to withstand some serious G Force abuse. Run or jump, your heel hits the ground with 3G forces, so take your weight and multiply it by three – that's how many pounds of force hits the ground. Mountain bikes are meant to be able to take the weight of the rider jumping over things and landing on the wheels. I figured if a 200 pound rider jumping over boulders landing with 600 pounds of pressure could be withstood by the bike's frame and wheels, then my 265 pounds just going down the road should be no issue. At my absolute heaviest, back in the early 90s, I had a bicycle wheel fold and warp under my weight. Granted, there were 170 some odd pounds more of me then, but having a bicycle folder under my weight is something I never wish to experience ever again.

The gym is only 4 miles from here, but it's almost all uphill. Funny how you never really notice the incline whilst driving. It's a whole other story when you're on the bicycle. At the height of the heat early last week I set out for the gym on the bike, & only made it halfway up the hill to the housing development roughly 2/3 of the way there. I may be foolish at times (Like riding your bicycle uphill in 100 degree heat, on your first day out), but I'm not suicidal. Halfway up the hill I decided it was too much of a climb, & I turned around and rode back. I decided to try the journey to the gym again today & this time I made it to the housing subdivision, we're deciding I'd had enough. I actually had to get off the bike, and walk up the hill when it got really steep. Now I ran a 5K at the gym yesterday, so I don't feel too bad about not making it there successfully today. I will drive over tomorrow morning to get in that run. Current goal is to do that at least every other day & every time there to run at least 5K on the elliptical.

I guess what's disappointing to me right now is realizing just how much of a challenge the bike is going to be. Once upon a time I was a bicycle commuter in New York City, while I was in medical school. I averaged about 60 miles a week at the time. I was also in my early 20s and not my early 60s. (Cue reality testing) there was indeed a time when that hill would have constituted no insurmountable challenge. There was a six city block segment in Northwestern Brooklyn that was every bit as steep, on my commute between Brooklyn and Manhattan back then. I actually used to look forward to that segment. Towards the end of it my quads would be bulging and burning, looking strikingly muscular in a pair of bike shorts. Again, that was 40 years ago and I am no longer that 20 something.

No matter. I am working on body reclamation & not becoming a body beautiful. The true goal is better health, longer life, better mobility and agility, and being truly happy with in my own skin.

It's been a long, & productive day. I'm sitting on the porch swing, enjoying not just the breeze, but just the ability to sit down.

I've been up since just past 6 this morning.

LJ & were at 6s & 7s with each other last night, and annoyed, I went upstairs to lie down. I had no appetite for supper. Not hungry? Then don't eat. As I think about this, I'm smiling. Me? Skipping dinner because I'm not hungry.? Well, that's progress. Once undressed & lying down, I realized just how tired I was & shortly thereafter, I was out cold.

I awoke at 3 briefly, in the midst of a pleasant, but strange dream, turned over & successfully went back, not only to sleep, but back to the same dream. I was still in the midst of it when I awoke this morning. For some odd reason I was in a taxi in I think NYC. I was sharing the cab with a guy who needed me to witness his wedding ceremony which was going to happen right there in the cab. He handed me the wedding rings to hold till the justice of he peace asked for the rings. The one for her looked similar to mine, but smaller and instead of channel set diamonds hers were channel set emeralds, graduated in size to a center stone nearly double the size of the smallest at either end. Like mine, the part of the band towards the palm was solid gold. His was a simple solid gold band. I slid them both onto my left pinky for safe keeping, stones facing my palm. I was signing their wedding license as the witness when I awoke. Once I opened my eyes, the first thing thing I did was to look at my hands, just to be certain I didn't have on any other jewelry, other than my own wedding band. That's how vivid this dream was.

I dressed and slid into a pair of cargo pants. As I reached for my belt, said pants made a run for it and went straight to my ankles. They're 46s and were the only pair of pants I still had upstairs, all the rest having gone into he closet downstairs. I opted for a pair of bike shorts instead. Those, at least, will stay up.

I attacked my closet today, installing more shelving, as well as a clothes rod, all of it for footwear. I have a bunch of boots, which at our old place hung by hooks from copper pipe near the ceiling of my old closet. Getting everything installed directly into studs was crucial for strength and durability, so I took my time getting things just right. I'm happy with the results. After getting things up, I headed out to the barn on a shoe hunt. I'd located on box of boots there yesterday, so I suspected I'd hit pay dirt. I did. I also found more pants, specifically the box of 42's. The dress pants were still to small to wear, but not the jeans. All are now in the closet. I also found a box of XL shirts, plus some even smaller pants which for the time being will remain in the barn. I made a mental note, backed up with a reminder on my phone's calendar to check them again in late July.

I'm excited with change and progress. I feel in some ways like I'm emerging from a chrysalis.

A friend asked me about the changes I've made to my diet, and my weight loss and if there was more to it than eliminating gluten and limiting other grains. I know a lot of other celiac & non-celiac gluten intolerant folks and just going gluten free is not going to take weight off of anyone. Many gluten free alternative products are very high in sugar and other very simple carbs. I have little more business eating them in large amounts, than wheat products. They won't flare my joints or skin, but they do me no favors.

Here's what I said to him:

I firmly believe that diabetics & prediabetics need to reduce intake of all simple carbohydrates to reduce the need for insulin. The more simple carbs consumed, the more insulin is required to keep blood sugar normal; the body responds by making more, as long as you still have a functional pancreas. Many, if not most, insulin requiring diabetics report insulin makes them hungry. Why wouldn't your own endogenous insulin do the same? I have noted for me personally, the more simple carbs I consume, the hungrier I become thereafter.

Further, insulin causes not only your general cell population to take in glucose to use for energy, it also decreases the amount of fat turned into ketones by your fat cells. All that extra insulin around is screaming at the fat cells not to break down fat.

The reason for exercise here isn't just to burn more calories, but to also increase insulin sensitivity as well. Again, it decreases the need for more insulin. Again, speaking from my own personal experience, my hunger level decreases with exercise.

So, in my case, getting off of the gluten turns out to have put my inflammatory arthritis in remission, so I can exercise again without the degree of misery I was having. This year is not to say I'm pain free; I'm not. I still have the damage that was done to contend with. I no longer have joints that get red, tender & swollen. I also now have a built in assist in resisting the temptation of wheat based foods. While potatoes, rice and other starchy food were easier for me to resist or limit, I never met a slice of bread I didn't like. If my husband asked me to bring him home a pastry, if it didn't go into the trunk, it was even money it didn't make it home. Today, I could have a dozen donuts sitting on the seat next to me and there is no way in hell I would touch them. The compulsion to eat them is gone. The temptation to grab something fast is challenged. I have to read everything I eat or I'm gonna pay the price for it which gives me the time to honestly consider if I really want to eat it. The two times early on I had wheat accidentally, I was visited by arthritic flares that lasted a week. So my choice is clear; I can walk or I can eat wheat. I cannot do both.

I'm pushing my exercise now for both weight control and sanity. I'm calmer and much more centered when I work out. It makes me feel better and more vital. That's the immediate benefit. The body I see emerging? That's icing on the cake, to use an unfortunate analogy.