Project LOLA: Day 300
The Road To Wellville?
Well, friends & neighbors, the Long Overdue Lifestyle Adjustment has reached Day 300.
The one year mark is just a couple of months off, and while I'd like to say things are getting easier, that wouldn't quite be the entire truth.
The physical side of things is going all right. My blood pressure is still down at a reasonable level, as are the daily blood glucose and A1C levels. The edema in my legs has almost completely disappeared, but my calves look like a war zone. Years of excess fluid & shitty circulation have left some fairly hideous varicose veins and skin discoloration. Combine a bad sunburn, hives and a case of apocalyptic diaper rash, and that's what it resembles. I guess it's better than having your calves & ankles look like beer kegs, but I don't think I'll be wearing culottes anytime soon...
My belt is cinched a good 12 inches tighter than when LOLA began. I'm going to have to start buying new clothes, though I'm probably going to wait a few more months in hopes that I only have to do one "transition wardrobe" and not two. As it is, my trousered butt looks as saggy as a geriatric elephant's, and when I wore my suit jacket last Friday, it hung so loose I looked like a kid wearing his dad's coat.
People I don't even know are stopping me in the halls and by the elevators, commenting positively on what a noticeable change I've made. That's encouraging, I suppose, but a bit embarrassing, too.
Best guess is that I'm down 90 lbs, more or less. Before you get all excited, bear in mind I've got to do that twice more to get in the ballpark of my goal weight. Already the Principle of Diminishing Returns is starting to make its appearance. The more weight I lose, the slower it comes off. To maintain the same level of weight loss, I'm either going to have to cut calories further, or kick up the exercise level.
Summer in Houston is just not the time for a fat man to do any serious walking. My knees are already fragged, and mallwalking just ain't my thing. I'm probably going to wait for the fall cooldown before I start hoofing it around the hiking trail. Memorial Park and its 3 mile lighted walk/jog path is on my way home, and while I'll miss the summer Spandex season, there's still plenty of eye candy to make the walking bearable.
So, the physical side is going OK. The mental side? Eh, not so much.
Pre-Project LOLA, El Capitan could address his emotional issues by burying them under a half-gallon of Fudge Ripple ice cream and pound down a plateful of chili-cheese fries to make sure they didn't resurface anytime soon.
That option is no longer available, and it's starting to be problematic.
Oh, I'm not flying into homicidal rages or anything, but it's getting harder to keep a tight lid on my wellspring of snark and sarcasm, especially at work. I've said some things that I regret, and my overall patience level, never very high to begin with, has plummeted almost to nothing.
I'm also smoking more cigars than I need to. What started as a once-a-month treat on Poker Night has become an every weekend event and a couple of weeknights, too. I've had to go out and find some less expensive sticks as a result. It just won't do to burn a $12 Rocky Patel more than once a week. Damn oral fixation...
Adding to the mental agitation, I'm starting to realize that sooner or later I'm going to have to get off the porch and start actively pursuing the womenfolks. Christ, the whole dating scene was a major PITA when I was young. Something tells me things haven't improved much.
Ah, well. Life goes on, and hopefully for me, it goes on for a few extra decades. We shall see...
Well, friends & neighbors, the Long Overdue Lifestyle Adjustment has reached Day 300.
The one year mark is just a couple of months off, and while I'd like to say things are getting easier, that wouldn't quite be the entire truth.
The physical side of things is going all right. My blood pressure is still down at a reasonable level, as are the daily blood glucose and A1C levels. The edema in my legs has almost completely disappeared, but my calves look like a war zone. Years of excess fluid & shitty circulation have left some fairly hideous varicose veins and skin discoloration. Combine a bad sunburn, hives and a case of apocalyptic diaper rash, and that's what it resembles. I guess it's better than having your calves & ankles look like beer kegs, but I don't think I'll be wearing culottes anytime soon...
My belt is cinched a good 12 inches tighter than when LOLA began. I'm going to have to start buying new clothes, though I'm probably going to wait a few more months in hopes that I only have to do one "transition wardrobe" and not two. As it is, my trousered butt looks as saggy as a geriatric elephant's, and when I wore my suit jacket last Friday, it hung so loose I looked like a kid wearing his dad's coat.
People I don't even know are stopping me in the halls and by the elevators, commenting positively on what a noticeable change I've made. That's encouraging, I suppose, but a bit embarrassing, too.
Best guess is that I'm down 90 lbs, more or less. Before you get all excited, bear in mind I've got to do that twice more to get in the ballpark of my goal weight. Already the Principle of Diminishing Returns is starting to make its appearance. The more weight I lose, the slower it comes off. To maintain the same level of weight loss, I'm either going to have to cut calories further, or kick up the exercise level.
Summer in Houston is just not the time for a fat man to do any serious walking. My knees are already fragged, and mallwalking just ain't my thing. I'm probably going to wait for the fall cooldown before I start hoofing it around the hiking trail. Memorial Park and its 3 mile lighted walk/jog path is on my way home, and while I'll miss the summer Spandex season, there's still plenty of eye candy to make the walking bearable.
So, the physical side is going OK. The mental side? Eh, not so much.
Pre-Project LOLA, El Capitan could address his emotional issues by burying them under a half-gallon of Fudge Ripple ice cream and pound down a plateful of chili-cheese fries to make sure they didn't resurface anytime soon.
That option is no longer available, and it's starting to be problematic.
Oh, I'm not flying into homicidal rages or anything, but it's getting harder to keep a tight lid on my wellspring of snark and sarcasm, especially at work. I've said some things that I regret, and my overall patience level, never very high to begin with, has plummeted almost to nothing.
I'm also smoking more cigars than I need to. What started as a once-a-month treat on Poker Night has become an every weekend event and a couple of weeknights, too. I've had to go out and find some less expensive sticks as a result. It just won't do to burn a $12 Rocky Patel more than once a week. Damn oral fixation...
Adding to the mental agitation, I'm starting to realize that sooner or later I'm going to have to get off the porch and start actively pursuing the womenfolks. Christ, the whole dating scene was a major PITA when I was young. Something tells me things haven't improved much.
Ah, well. Life goes on, and hopefully for me, it goes on for a few extra decades. We shall see...
posted by El Capitan | 4:08 PM
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