Archives for posts with tag: weight-loss secrets

I looked into the mirror with such a serious expression, which seems unnecessarily stress inducing. I was looking at the mark left behind by my CPAP mask, perhaps a bit vainly. It doesn’t really bother me much, and each morning after I wake it fades. Unimportant in the bigger picture of life, lived. My reflection looks back at me and I wonder again why is it that it’s so hard to catch myself with certain particular expressions when I look into a mirror?

The day moved on from the moment; it is the way of moments to pass.

Again and again I find myself contemplating questions, and wondering at their usefulness (or lack). Perhaps the questions I ask myself are not suited to the moment of asking?

Mt Hood in the distance.

The dawn comes, a new day. Pretty sunrise at a familiar trailhead, waiting for the gate to open. I sit with my thoughts awhile, before I head down the trail. I contemplate familiar human struggles; vanity, greed, laziness, temper. I guess most of us probably share these challenges to one degree or another. So often, just when I think I’ve mastered one or another, I find myself facing it again. I’m not complaining, some of this shit just takes practice. A lot of practice, over a lifetime. The need to practice doesn’t end (because “mastery” isn’t something we achieve over some of these very human challenges, ever). We practice. We fail. We begin again.

I sit with my thoughts and my choices, and contemplate my challenges (and my failures). Sometimes I find myself thinking that the question of whether something is “right” or “what I really want” is (should be) enough to guide my path, but those questions often fail me. I find myself wondering if perhaps a more useful, practical question might be “will this choice contribute reliably to my longevity and wellness in a meaningful way?” Practical. Succinct. Putting my attention on a multitude of long-term goals in a single question in a very direct way… Seems worth considering.

I lace up my boots. There’s a small farmhouse adjacent to this nature park. A year ago there was nearly always light on inside and signs of activity at all hours. There was a large garden that spread down the sloping front yard. Now the house is empty, dark, and quiet. Vacant. There is no garden, only grass, tall and unmown. I wonder what dreams died there, as I grab my cane to begin my walk.  I wonder what questions were left unanswered.

A gate, a house, a question. It’s a metaphor.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I have this path ahead of me, the clock is ticking, and it’s time to begin again.

So, the tl;dr on the visit to the new doctor is that I have a new doctor, and feel pretty well cared for, and one result is a renewed feeling of commitment to my health, generally, and less frustration and fewer feelings of futility about the work involved in being in good health. I’ve got a way to go, and there’s work to do. Predictably enough, I got pretty lax about things like my diet over the holiday season. Time to return to good practices and healthy choices, and there are a bunch of fucking verbs involved. lol

I spent some time this morning, over my black coffee (iced, no sugar) thinking about diet, nutrition, exercise, and cooking for a family while also staying focused on my own needs (and limitations). There are some foods I really like, that I can’t have (or have to limit very strictly), and that just has to be a practical part of the day-to-day without fussing or frustration. Examples? Cheese. Butter. Sugar. Non-nutritive carbs. Those are the biggies. I definitely enjoy cheese…and if I’m having cheese, I probably want that on a cracker… which are purely empty carbs with added sugar. So… no. Butter? Damn, I like cooking with butter. I don’t like the results with butter substitutes, and some recipes don’t turn out quite as well using oil – even healthy oil like avocado or olive. So… yeah. Butter needs to go, too, at least on my meals. Sugar? Just being real, that shit’s basically poison to me. I don’t need to be convinced. The hard part isn’t giving up gummy sweets (which I do really like) – the hard part is strictly limiting fruits to appropriate, measured, controlled, limited portions. These necessary restrictions don’t exactly leave me starving for flavorful meals. lol I’m not that fussy an eater, and I really like squash, and spinach, and eggs, and lean chicken, and broccoli, and beans, and nuts, and salads… so… yeah. Change is. I just have to do the work and demonstrate the commitment and the discipline, and I know that I feel better when I do. Choices.

So… there’s that…

Then… I need to do a little more, and do it a little faster. Basically, I need to make a point to burn those calories. lol I walk – but I’m not walking at the brisk pace I once did. I’m more… ambling along pleasantly enjoying the scenery. I’m in pain, and pushing harder isn’t easy. I’m grateful to be walking at all. Still, it’s time to pick up the pace and make real gains in strength. My doctor was frank with me, and also kind and encouraging. I know I’ve got this – it’s just that there really are verbs involved, and I’ve really got to do them for myself. Maybe that means on some days throwing in an extra walk, just around the neighborhood, at a proper quick pace with my cane and without taking pictures of flowers? I can easily get a mile or more in 20 minutes if I maintain a steady pace – and I know I should be able to do that without being breathless, at all. It’s worth doing. The more able I am, the more I’ll be able to do. More trails become attainable, greater distances become practical for a day hike. It’s worth the effort – and it’s okay that it will be an effort. That’s part of the point; doing the verbs.

This isn’t about new year’s resolutions, and these aren’t unexpected or unreasonable changes to need to make. I’ve been here before. I’m here again. That’s okay – it’s time, that’s all. The holidays are over and there’s work to do to be healthy and fit. Will I fail? Fuck yeah, probably; I’m very human. Will I begin again when I do? Definitely. I’ve got a goal, and a journey ahead, and it’s my path – I’ve got to walk it myself.

I smile and finish my coffee. I feel okay. I slept restlessly, and woke in pain, but neither of those things are out of the ordinary, nor do they cause me any particular concern, they’re just details to work around, and to cope with. It’s a very human experience. I’m feeling pretty encouraged and motivated. It’s time to begin again. Again.

I woke early and beat the sunrise to the trailhead. I meditate, then sit quietly waiting for the sun. The cloudy sky creates a sort of false dawn, reflecting back the light of human spaces in the distance.

Quiet time well-suited to reflection.

I wait.

I’m sitting here quietly grateful to be without the headache that ended my day yesterday evening. It go so bad I felt like the left half of my face was on fire, and the sound of human voices was painful and seriously aggravating, without regard to what was being said. That always sucks, and fortunately doesn’t happen often. Generally speaking, yesterday was excellent, aside from the headache that developed early and worsened over the course of the day.

Today is fresh and new. New opportunities. New moments. New choices. New experiences. New. I can begin again with each sunrise and walk my own path. That’s pretty exciting, and full of hope and promise. What will I do with it? Where does this path lead?

… Sleeping felt so good last night. I woke after sleeping through the night feeling rested and refreshed. I am already looking forward to sleeping, again…

This morning the temperature is mild and feels more like summer than imminent autumn. The air is sweet with the scent of wildflowers and meadow grasses. The quiet and stillness wrap me in a sensation quite unlike a workday, though it is a pretty ordinary Tuesday and I will soon be sitting down to work. I hear a distant train whistle break the stillness. Daybreak comes with the sound, almost as if caused by it.

I smile and stretch and reach for my boots and my cane. It’s a good morning to put a couple miles on these boots and a little distance between myself and whatever baggage I am still dragging through life. The sky is a soft moody blue – no colorful sunrise today. I can see the trail stretching out ahead to the next bend.

A soft misty rain begins to fall, so delicate it’s barely there, but I see it on the surface of the car as I walk away. I smile to myself and keep walking.

… It’s time to begin again…

There’s a steady rain falling. It’s been raining since I parked the car in the city, though the drive in was dry. There’s nothing at all to do about the rain, besides let it fall. The sky is a heavy gray, dark and moody, and the streetlights are still on; there’s not enough light to trigger the daylight sensors. The pavement shines, reflecting the streetlights. The trees in the park are a lush almost luminous assortment of greens. The cars turn the corners as they go around the park block, looking extra shiny, coated with the slick wetness of the rain. This is no mist. It’s a proper rain, and disturbs the surface of the pond in the park, giving the water an almost rough texture. I sip my coffee and watch the rain fall for a while, while I enjoy my breakfast salad (with a handful of blueberries, and a couple hard-boiled eggs). Lovely start to the work day.

I think about my upcoming camping trip, for some minutes, wondering how I will prepare for potential rain. A steady drenching rain such as this one, this morning, would certainly change my options out in the woods, or on the trail. For one thing, if I don’t have adequate overhead cover of some suitable kind, I’d have trouble cooking in the rain (that just also doesn’t even sound fun). I mean, I could hunker down in the opening of my tent, with my Jetboil carefully placed under the edge of the “vestibule” that projects somewhat forward of the tent opening itself, providing a wee bit of cover, and easily boil water for coffee or for preparing a freeze-dried backpacker meal. That’s certainly adequate… but I’ll be going prepared to actually cook real food, too… and I’m looking forward to being outside. It would be a very different experience to be “stuck indoors”, in my tent, facing a downpour. I smile; it’s not an issue, and barely a concern, really, and certainly this far in advance I’m just “borrowing trouble” and thinking thoughts of being prepared. My tent itself is a good one for outlasting the rain, generally, though I’ve never camped in the sort of tropical deluge that could soak through the best of tents… not yet, anyway.

I think about provisions for this camping trip ahead… “glamping” as much as camping, and I’ll have a small solar set up, and a portable fridge that’s pretty good-sized for one person (for 4 days). I sit munching my salad and thinking about what “four days of salad greens” looks like, and how much space that might take… This is the sort of detail that can throw off a plan, and I consider it with care, and with great joy. (I enjoy the planning, itself.)

…The minutes tick by as I amuse myself with my thoughts…

I have learned over time how very critical to my self-care it is to make time to “hear myself think”. These quiet moments of reflection, or even just daydreaming, really matter to my resilience, and my emotional wellness. I quickly begin to feel “crowded” and very much as if “everyone wants a piece of me” with nothing left over for myself, when I don’t make time for simple quiet reflection, and an opportunity to “hear myself think”. Being there for the woman in the mirror is a pretty big deal for such a small thing, and it pays off in calm, contentment, self-awareness, and the ability to maintain perspective and avoid taking dumb shit personally. Giving myself time to sit quietly with my thoughts reduces the likelihood that I’ll end up being a reactive asshole in some inconsequential moment that could potentially go sideways on a day I’m feeling cognitively “crowded” and overwhelmed by life. I’ve even noticed that I’m more easily able to keep track of “all the things”, when I make a point to take a few minutes to just chill and let my thoughts flow past, observed and unchallenged, for some quiet little while. Just saying; I find this a very good practice, though it can sometimes be difficult to find the quiet spot and the time for it. It’s worth making the time.

I sigh quietly to myself. I feel contented and calm. It’s a nice feeling. I’m still nibbling on this breakfast salad. lol That’s been a notable change with the addition of the Ozempic to my care plan; I don’t rush my meals. Like, at all. (All my life previously, I’ve basically wolfed down every meal as if someone might walk up and take my plate away, and in spite of being aware of this being a potentially unhealthy practice, as well as less than civilized for a bystander or dining companion to observe, it’s been a struggle to do things any differently.) Now it’s honestly a bit of a challenge to stay focused on the fact that I am eating a meal, and I’m definitely more likely to stop eating a bit before I notice that I feel “full”. I count this as a positive change, and make a point to notice, before moving on. It’s very nice to find that my consciousness is not dominated by thoughts to do with food, or meals, or cooking, or snacks… and I’m a little surprised, now, to understand that it had been for so long. Odd that there’s so little discussion of the cognitive changes associated with Ozempic… Seems worth discussing. (I’m no longer surprised by how many medications we take are “mind altering” that don’t get described that way, or understood to be so.)

My thoughts veer from cognition to consciousness to knowledge, and I find myself giving thought to what books to take on my camping trip… This “human computer” could use a “software update”! I’ve got a short stack of crypto currency and blockchain related books that seem relevant to my work, currently… but… maybe something more philosophical for this trip? Or… fiction? (I read very little fiction at this point in my life.) I don’t listen to audiobooks… I like real bound books that I can hold in my hand. I’ve got a ebook reader, and I use it quite a lot, but my favorite approach to ebooks is to read a bound book, then reread it as a ebook, which allows me to highlight passages and make digital “notes in the margins” without marking up the bound copy. I used to pride myself on having read every book I own… but I’ve fallen a bit behind on that, and I’ve now got some dozen or so books waiting on my attention, and limited bandwidth. lol It seems rather a shame to spend my downtime on work-related reading, so I turn my attention to books on other topics… Maybe a good time to read Thích Nhất Hạnh? I’ve got a couple books of his that my Traveling Partner gifted me after news of the reknown teacher’s death reached us. I haven’t yet read them all.

…So many books to read, so much to learn that has value, how inconvenient that time if finite…

…I sip my coffee and let my thoughts wander where they will. It’s that sort of morning…

Soon enough it will be time to begin again.

I’m paused on the trail. I arrived just as the park gates opened, put on my boots and got started down the trail moments after daybreak. The trail was still quite dim and I have it to myself, even now. I  set a good pace, and at my planned turnaround point (a riverfront viewpoint) I stopped to catch my breath and write. It’s a cool morning, but not so chilly that my fingers would struggle with my phone. I’m warmed through from the walk.

My night was wakeful and not especially restful after my Traveling Partner woke me up. I don’t remember why he woke me, only that it was difficult to get back to sleep, and my sleep was interrupted with wakeful moments and anxious dreams from then until morning. Less than ideal. He left me a sweet and kind apology note, which I saw when I woke. I’m okay. Not mad or cranky about it,  just not well-rested. Maybe a nap later…?

…There are nutria playing along the riverbank. I watch them awhile…

It’s a gray rainy looking morning. There’s laundry to do. Vacuuming. Salad greens in the garden are looking good, and I consider carefully harvesting enough of the more mature outer leaves for a salad for breakfast after I return home. It’s Sunday…

Today is a “benchmark day”. Time to take my next dose of Ozempic, do my weigh-in, and take a couple pictures of progress-to-date. This is my 4th shot. This is also the first time I’ve ever approached fitness and weight-loss from a perspective of actual eagerness and confidence, since I was  bodybuilding in the 80s. It helps to see the progress, and as with so many things, the progress is often only visible if I’m really looking for it. So, the meal tracking, weigh-ins, and weekly progress photos serve to help me see the reality of my subjective experience. I found myself actually excited to get to Sunday, my “benchmark day”, more and more as the week progressed, and here I finally am.

…I am curious about the outcome…

Life is full of benchmarks and milestones. Celebrating those, big and small, has real value, and amazing potential to lift us up – or “set us straight” about where we are on a given journey. I  sigh contentedly,  sitting in this place, listening to the birds, and the river as it flows by. It’s a beautiful morning and I made it to this goal, this lovely place to sit with my thoughts, in good time. That’s another piece of my fitness journey; overcoming my pain, and mobility issues, to “go further, faster”. I’m pleased to be back to being comfortable with 2.5 miles. I’m eager to reach 3… then 5… I’m counting on practice and incremental change over time. I know this works.

I’m grateful that I’m still walking.

A bit of daylight breaks through the clouds. It’s time to head back down the trail to other moments and beginnings…