Trick or Treat

I'm sitting here waiting for the rush of little ghosts and goblins. I've got a giant bowl of Skittles and M&M standing by and ready to go. I hope we have a big night tonight. I don't want to get stuck with nine pounds of processed sugar and toxic red dye.

Trick or treat!

Making Her Crazy

We're going to go a little off topic tonight.

Anybody out there having trouble with the sound on your ipad? Michelle's ipad is exhibiting random sound outages. The problem started right after the last update, iOS 7.0.3 and is making her crazing. My wife has the mistaken impression that Apple products are superior in all aspects. The fact the her ipad is fallible, has shaken her faith in all things technical. Please help.

Evidently, after proofing the previous paragraph, Michelle is under the mistaken impression that I am an idiot.

Even if I were an idiot, I'm an idiot who's down 86 pounds.

I can live with that.

Change Is Good

It feels like a long time since I've written. From Friday through the weekend it was one thing after another. Dinner with family at Laura & Peter's home. Breakfast with Laura & the Boys. Gracie Alice's birthday party. Dinner out with Mom & Dad. Church and lunch with Genesis, Gracie and Hannah. Not to mention grocery shopping and various chores. It was a full and fun weekend.

This was the longest break in my blog since my surgery in June. As I think about it, the new and exciting has become normal. My surgery, and the weight loss that goes with it, is loosing that 'new car' smell. As I walk day to day I become less acutely aware of the physical changes in my life. It is shocking how quickly I've settled into a new reality.

I am a work in process. I have not arrived, but I'm far enough down the trail to realize I'm going to be OK. My priorities are changing. My outlook is changing. The way I view myself is changing.

Change is good.

I fell In The Trap

I played racquetball last night; first time in more than twenty years. I think I finally found something that isn’t like riding a bicycle, if you know what I mean. Within five minutes I had sprinted full speed into the wall and hit the floor twice. By the end of the hour I had been thoroughly school by a guy several years older than me. It was awesome. I haven’t sweat that hard in a long time. This morning I have found muscles I didn't know I had. For a slow-twitch guy like me, a sprint-stop-sprint sport like racquetball is just what the doctor ordered to change-up my workouts. I hope my body and ego are recovered sufficiently to play next Tuesday.

We do the craziest things to please our wives.

Michelle loves just about everything there is about skiing. She loves the snow, riding the chairlift, the scenery, the hot chocolate and the splendor of the mountains. The only part she doesn't like is the actual skiing. Honestly, it isn't the skiing she objects to, it’s the falling down. Unfortunately, falling down is an integral part of skiing, especially for a beginner. Michelle is determined that the falling down part ruins the whole experience. 

I love to ski and I want to share the experience with my wife. I don’t care if we spend all our time coasting down the Daisy run, as long as we’re doing it together. The other night I was enthusing about the pending ski season and all the things we could try to improve her comfort and joy in ‘our’ favorite recreational activity, when she challenged me with a question.

“When are you going horseback riding with me?”

Ouch! I didn't see that one coming. If you know me at all you know there are few things that strike terror in me more than a horse. They’re big. They sense fear. They kick. They bite. They poop on the trail where I want to hike. I don’t like horses. Michelle’s been trying to sell me on horses for years and I've held my ground. In my enthusiasm to pump-up Michelle about ski season, I fell into her trap.

“I’ll ride a horse.”   

I said it like it was as natural and normal walking across the room. I’ll ride a horse. Really, what a stupid thing to say! Before I could think, react, retract; Michelle said great, we have a deal.

And that, my friends, is how Michelle is getting me on a horse.

Maybe It's Karma

That's it; I'm done with pasta.

Tonight for dinner I had baked chicken breast and a small serving of bake penne pasta. I say small serving because it was literally a few tablespoons. I followed the rules. I ate slow. I chewed my food. I stopped before feeling full and still the pasta hit bottom like a ton of bricks. Of all foods, pasta is not my friend. It happens every time and I'm done with it.

I mean it; this time I really do. Maybe it's karma for all the bad I've done over the years with pasta. Me and pasta have done some crazy things: lasagna, spaghetti and meatballs, seafood fettuccine, brown butter & Parmesan, and a few others I can't mention in public. I remember a time when we were living in China. We found a little Italian restaurant run by a local man who called himself Chef Luigi. It was like manna from heaven. Actually it was more like an island of crusty bread and linguine in a sea of noodles and rice.

All things change. I'm not going to loose any sleep over my former friend, pasta. We had a good run, but I've moved on. It was good, but now it makes me sick, literally.

How Much Is Enough?

The rate of my weight loss is starting to slow, which has me thinking and in a mild state of panic.

How much is enough? For purely petty reasons, I want to loose at least a hundred pounds. It seems like a 'significant' amount. It seems like an accomplishment; much more than say ninety eight pounds or ninety six pounds fourteen ounces. I know I should be focused on health and good living, but really want at least a hundred pounds.

On a more tangible note; I want to loose enough to run again. A couple of weeks ago I went for a run; three miles, easy pace. It was all good. Until the next day when my knees staged a complete and total revolt. I've had knee problems for a long long time. Maybe I shouldn't have run on them years ago when I started to gain weight. Maybe I shouldn't have skied on them when I weighted as much as a family of four. Would have, could have, should have; it's all in the past now. I did and that's that.

Only time is going to resolve this conundrum. Will he? Won't he? Where is he going to end up? Stick around, we'll find out together.  


Post Script:
According to my lovely wife, I am totally ridiculous. I should be focused on my improved health because, according to Michelle, I'm never going ski like it's nineteen eighty four again.

Hurtful, very hurtful.



 

A Lucky Guy

This afternoon we were driving down Evergreen when we past a gaggle of teens wandering down the sidewalk in what I'm sure they thought was their trendy finest; baggy pants, hoodies, boxers showing and enough hardware between them to stock an isle at Home Depot. Before I could make a comment, Michelle spoke up, "I guess Halloween's coming early this year."  

Yup, we're old.

This morning Michelle schooled me at the Gym. The lesson involved a balance ball, a medicine ball and a big dose of humility. Try standing on a giant bar of soap while someone throws a ten pound ball at you while you try not to fall off, fall over, or fall down. Hiring a personal trainer for Michelle has proven to be a great decision. The jury is still out as far as I'm concerned.

Good news, nobody does the hot tub after a workout better than I do.

Tomorrow is October 20th. Four months ago on June 20th I had weight loss surgery. As of this morning, I've lost eighty-three pounds and found more than I ever knew was missing. My life has changed in ways I never dreamed possible.

I truly am, a lucky guy.  

A Perfect Outing

Tonight Michelle & I went out for dinner. It was a near perfect outing.

One result of significant weight loss is I am always cold. This is new for me. I've always been shorts and short sleeve guy. Everyone is bundled up from the cold, and I stroll by in Birkenstock's and Bermuda shorts like I'm looking for the beach. No more, I'm the cold one. Always.

I have to assume by the fact that I was the only one in Anthony's with blue lips and shivering uncontrollably; I was the only one who was cold. Before the bread basket arrived, Michelle jokingly offered her scarf. In a nano-second I accepted and had the frilly accessory wrapped several times around my neck. Michelle thought I looked ridiculous. The waitress, no doubt concerned about her tip, offered to turn the heat up. And I didn't care; willing to trade an awkward social appearance for a little warmth.

On the up side, Michelle and I split a salmon dinner, two cups of chowder and had a wonderful time together.  

On second thought, it was a perfect outing.

I Miss That Guy

It’s been a crazy couple of days, but that’s all behind me now.

On with life; what a good life it is. It’s been a long time coming, but all is good in all I survey.

Don’t get me wrong, my life wasn't bad. In fact, in earlier writings I've repeatedly referred to myself as a ‘lucky man’. It wasn't wishful thinking; it was true to the moment. I have an awesome wife. I have a great family. I was healthy enough, or so I thought. There were tough times, but isn't that life? Overall, life was good, right?

Looking back it seems so obvious. I was always the guy in the back row of every photograph. I rarely smiled. I looked for any excuse to avoid social situations, especially with people I didn't already know.  I leaned on my wife life she was the last life jacket on a sinking ship because that’s one of the few places I felt truly comfortable. Looking back; I lived my life in hiding. With every pound my confidence eroded. With every pound my ability to live the life I loved diminished. With every pound I became a little less of whom I was. 

I've lost eighty-three pounds so far and I feel like I can fly. The sunshine is warmer. The rain is sweeter and every day is a new opportunity; superlative, I know. However, I cannot overstate the positive impact this experience has had on my life. It has been so much more than a surgical procedure and shrinking waistline. It’s been about finding me. 

It turns out I missed that guy more than I knew. 

Empirical Evidence

Today's 'routine procedure' is complete; everything came out fine.

For my wife who has on occasion insinuated I was full of crap, I have empirical evidence to the contrary.

That's how you celebrate Columbus Day.

Routine Procedure

Tomorrow afternoon I am scheduled for a 'routine procedure'.

Today has been spent 'prepping' for said procedure.

Some days getting old isn't much fun.

Fun & Frivolity

Today Michelle & I went for a drive in the mountains to look at the fall colors.

Along the way we stopped at Snoqualmie Falls, had a non-fat cafe mocha, and went for a short hike at Alpental Ski area. It was a day of fun and frivolity.

It was a day well spent.

One Slice Guy

Friday night is pizza night.

We've gone from two large to one small with left-overs. Suddenly I'm a 'one slice' guy.

The miracles never cease.

Make My Day

Sixteen weeks; it's been sixteen weeks today since having weight loss surgery. My life has changed in more ways than I ever imagined. The most significant being; I'm down eighty-two pounds.

The question I get asked all the time; do I have any regrets? Just one, why did I weight so long.

If you, or anyone you know, have questions about weight loss surgery, please contact me. It would make make my day to share what I've learned.

Genuine Thankfulness

Today I ran into someone I haven't seen in a long time; more than four months. His reaction made my day. I'm not bragging; at least not in the traditional, 'look at me, I'm better than you' sense. I know full well if it weren't for the grace of God and the skill of a surgeon I'm be where I started this journey, or worse. For years I struggled and failed with my efforts to control my weight. I'm proud of my results so far, but I'm not stupid. I know credit belongs where credit is due.

A friend who had weight loss surgery before I did, heard me say in response to a comment someone made on my weight loss, that I had cheated. He pulled me aside and told me I didn't cheat. I took responsibility. I took control. I took drastic measures to correct my situation, but I didn't cheat. He's right. Cheating implies gain at someones expense. My surgery has proven to be gain for everyone I love and care about.

There isn't an aspect of my life that isn't improved. The first time my granddaughter put her arms around me and realized her hands touched, is etched in my mind. She was shocked. Then over-joyed and then locked her hands around my waste and held on like she'd just discovered something really good: me.

That kind of reaction doesn't give rise to bragging. That kind of reaction instills humility and a genuine thankfulness for the opportunity I've been given.

Crazy Wild Fantastic Journey

This morning Michelle forgot her make-up bag. She had an eight AM training appointment and then left straight for work. Michelle, my Michelle, went all day with just the odds of make-up tumbling around in the bottom of her purse. I'm lead to believe this is somewhat akin to me walking around all day with only one shoe. The difference is; Michelle always looks great and I would look totally ridiculous with only one shoe.

My work day starts at 6:00 AM. I don't have much opportunity for morning workouts, at least not during the week. I suppose it's possible, but I'm not about to get up one minute earlier than I absolutely necessary. Tonight was my typical swim & spin workout. Michelle is trying to 'nudge' me towards more of a lifting or power based workout. The fact that my lovely wife knows what a power workout is, is a little unsettling. The fact that she does power workouts and is chiding me for not; that's just wrong.

When Michelle and I first talked about weight loss surgery, she said only if we did it together. She was all in. Changes in diet, exercise, lifestyle; Michelle has been locked with me every step of the way. To the point where my sweet wife is pushing me on the weights; again, that's just wrong.

It's been a crazing, wild, fantastic journey so far. It's been all the better because we've done it together. The most exciting thing to me is, we've just started. It's been less than four months since I had weight loss surgery. I can't even image what the next four months will bring.

Stay tuned. We'll find out together.

Even the Food

What a weekend! Great weather. Lots done. A long walk with Michelle and Sunday dinner; it just doesn't get better than that. Oh wait, Grandma Michelle and Miss Layla Jane made pumpkin spice cookies with frosting and sprinkles. Now we're talking.

You may be thinking; Linn's getting a little happy with Sunday dinner and cookies. Darn right he is. The difference between me today and me eighty-one pounds ago, is I can enjoy a cookie. As opposed to, let's say, enjoying every last cookie in the house and then searching for more. I now use a salad plate for my Sunday dinner and I don't go looking for seconds. In fact, I've learned it's OK to not finish my plate. 

I still enjoy food, just a lot less of it. I still enjoy Sunday dinner and Granada's cookies, just on a different level. When my focus isn't on eating until I can't breath, it leaves time and place for enjoying the people, the experience and ironically, even the food.

Enough Said

It's Friday.

I'm not normally the clock-watching type, but this week I'm ready for a little down time.

Enough said? Hope so.

Ugly Old Belt

I have a belt.

It’s an old brown belt. It’s been with me a long time and it’s held my trousers through some pretty tough times. Near the pointy end there’s an elongated hole and a ridge across it where the leathers been distressed and deformed under prolonged pressure.

Yesterday I drilled another set of holes in my trusty old belt. Now, in addition to one tortured hole and four progressively less abused holes, there are seven new holes in my trust old belt. Two are extra; to be used at a future date. Some might call it optimism. I call it planning ahead.  

Michelle hates my old brown belt.

Why don’t you buy a new belt? That belt looks ridiculous.  Why you insist upon hanging on to that ugly old belt?

If Michelle tossed every ridiculous old thing in her life, I’d be headed to the curb right now. I keep the belt because it’s a tangible reminder of where I’ve been, where I’m going, and where I stand right now. No other single item in my life serves as such a graphic marker of my progress.   

Someday the old brown belt will end up in the bin. For now, the old brown belt rides with me.

One more thing: if you measure back from where I was to where I am; it’s a journey of nine inches!

 

 

 

I'll Take That Deal

One unintended side effect of weight loss surgery; I'm cold all the time.

I was shorts and sandals guy, even in the dead of winter. Now I have wear a shirt, a sweater, a jacket and a coat; just to sit at my desk without shivering. I'd wear gloves and a hat too, but there's the issue of working the keyboard, and of course, the issue of ridicule and looking stupid too.

I've done some research. There's a logical explanation for the deep chill. First, I simply don't have the fat layer of insulation I used to carry. There's reason whales have blubber, they live in a cold ocean. I spend 99.9% of my time on dry land, so a thick layer of blubber is totally unnecessary. Second, my metabolic rate is changing. It takes less fuel to run my body. Less fuel is less fire. Less fire is less heat. According to the articles I've read this should all sort its self out in a year or so.

Until then, I'm the guy in the office dressed like twenty below. I may look ridiculous, but I'm warm. These days, I'll take that deal.

Significant Gaps

I'm coming up on a pretty major milestone. I'm currently at seventy nine and a half pounds lost and bearing down on eighty. The last time I weight this much, or this little, depending upon your outlook, was 1993. Actually, it was Wednesday, May 12, 1993. I know because I am a compulsive journalizer.

For years I have recorded important events and mundane facts with equal ferocity. I have more files of useless information than I'll ever have practical use. Before this blog was ten years of Saturday emails. Then was a newsletter from China. Going back even further, are my logs and journals of all things useless; except I know what my weight was, Wednesday, May 12, 1993.

Of course there are significant gaps in my journals. Those voids identify dark periods of weight gain, lost battles, and other times better left unremembered. Not that my failure to record a complete record in anyway erases the reality of what I've lived and remember.

When I started on this journey my goal was life without limits. I am still steadfast in that conviction. However, I'd like to add life without gaps. I'm not a fool. I know there are going to be hard times ahead. I'm not a pessimist, quite the opposite, but I understand the realities of life. One must trudge through the valleys of life to climb the mountain tops. Without the valleys to prove their dizzying heights, the mountain top is just another place to stand.

This journey started off to be all about weight. It started with weight loss surgery and a desperation to change my life. I'm still seeking change, but not just with my body.