Losing It

On the one hand, I’m thrilled I’ve lost 10 pounds. On the other, I’m embarrassed I let the fat accumulate. It wasn’t a surprise when I stepped on my ancient digital scale and read the highest weight since being pregnant with my last child 25+ years ago. Once again, lying on the couch, eating potato chips, and having a nightly cocktail has not proven to be the best plan. I had to do something drastic: either lose weight, or buy new jeans through the internet. I chose the former as the lesser horrible option.

Using a mobile app (Lose It!), I’ve faithfully, if not perfectly, recorded my breakfasts, lunches, dinners, and snacks. I put in a goal of losing 1/2 pound per week and recorded my weight every morning, so I have a squiggly line, mostly going down. No more chips, booze only on the weekends, and eating smaller, certainly not tiny, meals is paying off. I can get into almost all of my pants. The skinniest may be donated to a good cause if I can’t wear them by the time we visit Mary in San Diego. There is no point in being unrealistic about an attainable body at my age. 

While I haven’t really added “exercise more” to the mix, every morning I have done a Tai chi lesson from the one sent via email and DropBox by James, my Fort Lauderdale teacher. He is a marvelous instructor, breaking each movement into small parts, repeated many times. I haven’t practiced Tai chi for almost 2 years, yet I have amazing muscle memory of it. Some good, some bad. With these video lessons, I can see small errors that I can fix at James’ current slow pace. The pace is so comfortable that Grant has joined in learning. He got hooked on the Spinal Refreshment stretches that helped his sore neck and back and has grudgingly begun learning the Yang form. He would never have gone to a group class, but in the privacy of our office, he is willing to keep trying. I’ve explained that it took me a year of real concentration before I felt comfortable. He isn’t patient with himself, but admits he feels better for doing it. Tai chi is practice, not perfection.