Been There, Done That, Want the T-Shirt Back
A little over seven years ago, I wrote about having reached almost 200 pounds and what I planned to do to lose weight. I met with great success back then and managed to keep the weight completely off until 2009.
When I arrived in Montréal in April 2008, my weight fluctuated between 168 and 172 pounds on my scale that always adds a few pounds. But then life changed in August 2009. And through some kind of feeble-minded rebellion and lack of interest in cooking for myself, I either ate out or ate take out all the time. And I do mean, all the time.
As a result, this year I reached the high 180s. That’s still not as bad as in 2004 — it’s a good 10 pounds less, in fact. But in view of how I’ve been feeling otherwise in recent months, I’ve come to the conclusion that my self-image being in the toilet is one of the many contributing factors. I know cognitively that it’s superficial and vain, but I need to recognize the sentiment and address it if it’s really bothering me that much.
So, last Monday night, I went on my first major grocery shopping trip since I don’t remember how long. I got salad and meat and fruits and vegetables and not a single bit of snack food. Fortunately I like munching on baby carrots.
I had managed to keep off the weight for so long by controlling my intake of empty carbs. I wasn’t an Atkins or South Beach fanatic or anything like that; I simply didn’t consume carb-rich foods every meal. Not only did I not feel deprived, I also never felt overstuffed — a feeling with which I’ve unfortunately rebecome acquainted.
Already I lost 2 pounds. I still allow myself a reasonable portion of Basmati rice with my main meal. But for the next little while I’ve sworn off bread, bagels — oh my gawd that’s so hard in Montréal! — and potatoes, and I’m being reasonable with portion sizes. If it’s possible for me to continue losing about 2 pounds per week, as I did back in 2004, I could be near or at my 172 target by July — or at least on the “right” side of the 170s.
The lowest I ever reached on my ungenerous scale (even once since I’ve been in Montréal) is 164. On my mom’s scale, which she swears in 100 percent accurate, I’ve often seen myself below 160. Therefore, I’ve often wondered if I could reach and keep 160–162 on my scale. But that might be asking for too much of myself. All I know is that I have items of clothing that I cannot comfortably wear right now, and I refuse to buy new clothes at this point.
Late last summer, a panhandler/hustler in the Village tried to get my attention and called me Hey, le Gros! He actually called me le Gros! That, of course, could mean “big guy” in French in that “hey boss” kind of way, especially since I’m certainly not the fattest guy to hang out in the Village. And really, why should I even think twice about what a panhandler said, right?
Except that it hit me the wrong way. The jury’s still out on whether it’s because I’m thin-skinned these days or that it hit too close to my perceived truth. But if it’s the latter and I don’t like it, I have to do something about it …because I know I can.
Been there, done that, and I want the T-shirt back!