For-Dee

Like any abusive relationship, I am having a hard time ending it. Hell, it is 3:14 pm and I needed a ruling from Wes to do it, but I am officially ending the diet. I hit my weight goal of 185 this morning.*

I have lost 40 pounds over the last 18.5 months. This was the goal I set for myself September 7, 2008 when I just one day decided that I was going to lose forty pounds and set about doing it. I have lost six pant sizes, from 40 to 34, although my 34s are kind of loose on me. Two shirt sizes, from XL to M, although I find it silly that I would wear a medium, partly because since circa 1991 I have only worn clothes that are big enough to not actually touch my body (and, yes, I wore an onion on my belt, as was the style of the day).

Those who have followed the diet exploits, or have been forced to listen to me prattle on endlessly about it, know that it has not been easy. I could say that I did it with diet and exercise and not be completely lying about. I walk to and from work each day and play two hours of full-court on Fridays. When I am "on-diet" I eat little-to-no fat, never having even the littlest of treats, diet cola, American-style lager most of the time, apples, oranges for snacks. I try to keep it under 1200 calories a day. When I am "off-diet" I try to do all of these things as well, but not quite so religiously. I have been alternating 100 days on, 100 days off (or so).

While I could say "diet and exercise" and be done with it, that would really be a lie. When I am on-diet, I rival the worst teenage girl when it comes to what I eat. I obsess over it constantly. When I weigh-in a pound up, I beat myself up for snacking (a bag of microwave pop corn, 240 calories) the night before. I know the calorie count of most foods. I cook meals for others that I don't eat, having a bowl of soup instead (220 calories for the noodles, just 200 for the rice, 160 for the "chicken and vegetable"). I know exactly how much to subtract from my scale weight when I am wearing clothes (8 pounds for sweatshirt, pants, and shoes. 5 pounds without the sweatshirt and shoes. 3 pounds without the pants) so that I can estimate my next-day weight. When I feel good about myself and how I look, I remind myself that I am x pounds overweight. Did I mention that I talk about it endlessly?

Which is to say this, thanks for putting up with me. Jesus, thanks for putting up with me. Thanks for encouraging me, even if it was only to discourage me from going too nuts about it. At least I will be living longer to bore you with my food habits.

As effing cheesy as it sounds, I did this mostly because of health concerns and a desire to be around for a long time to see my daughter grow up. I had quit smoking, and cut way back on the drinking, but I knew that my liver and weight were still issues. I think (still too afraid to go into the doctor for fear of bad news) that I have eliminated those concerns. Cholesterol and blood pressure were always good.

As I mentioned in the opening, I will still struggle with this. You don't just go off Focusin. My weight will creep back up. I will try to tell myself that if I weigh 195, that's 30 pounds less than I was. I will try to stop reminding myself that I am still 10 pounds overweight when I am feeling good about myself. I doubt I will accomplish these goals and we may be here again some day, talking about my weight and diets, but for now, I did it. Hopefully I will be able to feel good about it, for now my brain still won't let it go, a large part of me wants to keep going. This is the part I fear. As I said, I ahev to get out before it destroys me.

Which is a pretty fucked up way to end a post celebrating the end of a year-and-a-half long diet, but there it is. My name is Dave, I weigh 185, and I am trying to be okay with that.


*Partial transcript of an IM conversation with my wife I had this afternoon might explain some my ambivalence, and give some insight into my mental state, in the comments.