< 1700 Calories, Daily

So as of mid-June, I've been on a diet. I'm using (of course!) an app on my iPhone to count calories eaten and exercised away, in addition to starting aqua aerobics classes and sessions with a personal trainer at our nearby Timpany Center (formerly Easter Seals.)

In order to reach my fairly modest initial goal of ~100 pounds weight loss by this time next year, my iPhone -- which I used to like just a little bit more before it started to crimp my hedonistic ways -- has put me on a diet of under 1700 calories per day. I honestly have no idea at all how many I used to consume before this, but judging by the celery-sucking I've been resorting to lately I'm guessing that's about a quarter of what I'm used to. I've gone from a double with cheese meal and spicy chicken nuggets at Wendy's to just a chicken sandwich... and let me tell you, that totally sucks.

Sort of.

I've lost a couple of inches on my waistline already, I can see space between my gut and the steering wheel when I'm driving, I've had to punch a new hole in my belt because it's too big for me now, and my knees aren't hurting me as much as they used to when I walk. So, obviously, that's a good thing. And frankly, I'll be happy when I stop hearing the occasional fat joke at work from coworkers who think it's okay to be insulting in a friendly way because I make fun of myself every once in a while (here's some insight: it's NOT okay. Those jokes DO hurt. Friendly insults are STILL insulting. And you're an ASSHOLE.)

So that part is definitely good. I'm trying to appreciate the Gardenburger as well as the 24-ounce ribeye, and the heated pool as well as the sofa. I haven't radically changed my ways, and I still plan on drinking and eating more than I should when we go to back to Hawai'i. I haven't hugged any trees lately, and I don't plan to any time soon. But I'd like to think I'm making progress.

So why now, you ask, when I've been huge for a long time? What was the crucial event that finally made the impetus strong enough to where I took action?

I don't know, really.

Maybe it was last November, when I mashed my foot and had to use a cane to get around because I'm too fat to just limp like a normal person. Maybe it's the fact that since then I've had to break out that same cane every month or two, because the osteoarthritis in my left knee caused by my weight has gotten so bad. Maybe now that I'm 40 years old I'm starting to think that it might be a good idea to aim for another 40 or more. Maybe I'm sick of having nothing to wear besides Hawaiian shirts and custom-made tie dye (not that there's anything wrong with those, mind you, but I remember being able to tuck in my shirts without embarrassment.) Maybe it's the article I read about the 300-pound dude who was able to lose so much weight, and my realization that my first thought about that was "Man, I remember back when I only weighed 300." Maybe it's the fat jokes. Maybe I'm getting sick of having to try several different rental cars before I find one where I can fit behind the wheel.

Maybe it's our upcoming 10th wedding anniversary, and my belief that we're still just getting started so I want to make it last.

Maybe I don't like thinking of Lucie as a widow.

Maybe it's all of the above.

And maybe it's about frickin' time.