Friday, October 2, 2009
Little did I imagine, back in November of 2008 (the 19th to be exact) just how much an appointment with my doctor was about to change my life. People see my weight loss and think that's the big change. From their vantage point I know it is strikingly true. My appearance is so changed that some people at church are even struggling with a bit of cognitive dissonance and saying things like, "That was weird--I didn't recognize you for a moment there." I have to admit that, even for me, the thin-ish guy in the mirror is strangely unfamiliar still. I actually think my face looked much more friendly and warm when it was more rounded. And now that I have gone and shaved my head, my appearance looks, even to me, more different still--rather turtle-like really. Except for my white scalp and skin, I now look like one of the BlueMen (I love their music/act!). I suppose I'll get used to that turtle-headed guy in the mirror, but perhaps I'll need to try and purposely smile more to make up for the kind of gaunt monkish look my face has now taken on.
As I began to say, my appearance is not at all the biggest change since I began to lose weight. The biggest change is a shift in how I see and manage that ever-faster moving element in my life--that illusive, fleeting, mercurial, conveyor-belt-ish thing we call time (Remember that song by--Who was it?--called Time? It was all echo-y and psychedelic). My doctor had been on my case for two or three years about my weight. She said I needed to get more exercise and to do it more regularly and intentionally. I would always answer that I just couldn't fit it in to my busy schedule. I was already getting up at 6:30 or 7 and that seemed pretty early to me.
As I left the doctor's office with my prescription for Metformin--and a glucometer with which to prick my finger several times a day and record my blood-sugar levels--I determined that, convenient or not, I'd have to find a way to squeeze some exercise into my routine. The only place in my schedule for any new activity was in my mornings. Ugh. This would mean getting up earlier. I began getting up at 5:30, but after getting dressed and wrapped up (It was cold then in late November) it was ten-'till-six which didn't leave much time to walk and then take a shower. Eventually I found that the only way I could get ready and get in a sufficiently long was to get up at--gulp--4:45. Some days were really miserable. Now, almost one year later, this formally absurd hour of the morning seems a pretty "normal" time to get up. Nowadays for me, "sleeping in" means sleeping all the way through to 5:30 or 6:00. I guess it just proves that one can get used to nearly anything.
Well, Time compels me to wrap up this post and hit the "Publish Post" button so my waiting readers--both of you--can have a fresh morsel to consume. Now I must do some further research into something called Single Malt. Perhaps I will blog about my findings at some future time--Time permitting that is...