Weigh-in Day Part XI – Diet Day 78

It’s Friday and for the past 11 weeks it has been the one-day of the week that I both looked forward to and dreaded in equal amounts. It’s kind of like that Rebecca Black song. On the one hand you absolutely detest hearing that thing yet once you hear it you can’t get it out of your head for hours.

Friday is official weigh-in day for me. It is that time when I have to face my worst fears. I have to step onto the scale and see that number that represents my current weight. It’s funny, I shouldn’t really care but I do. After all, I am following the plan and doing everything in my power to stay true to the weight loss program.

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Dealing with Diet Frustration – Diet Day 22

Today marks the beginning of the fourth week of my diet program. I was both looking forward to and dreading getting on the scale. Has all of my hard work and dedication paid off or has my body decided enough is enough and is revolting and not taking off the weight? These are the kinds of internal struggles I now find myself dealing with. At the beginning of my diet I weighed myself on January 13th to find that I had reached an all-time high of 210 pounds. I had vowed to myself never to get above 200 and here I was 10 pounds later cursing the bathroom scale like it was the machine’s fault.

I stepped on the scale with my eyes closed saying a silent prayer to the scale gods. “Oh holy being of springs and counter measures. May your justice be swift and may your dial be slow. I pray thee oh mighty bathroom deity cleanse me of the excess weight and I shall praise thy name from the highest toilet!”

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Remembering

Like many other people I can remember exactly what I was doing eight years ago when I learned of the terrorist attack on the Pentagon and the World Trade Center the morning of September 11. I am not sure I could classify this as a life changing moment for me but more of an awakening.

Before the events of September 11, 2001 I was someone who took freedom for granted. I didn’t give a second thought to my ability to protest something I did not like or voice my opinion with little repercussion other than fearing I would sound like an idiot.

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To the Moon and Back

Forty years ago my friends and I were complete engrossed in yet another baseball game in our front yard.  It was a daily ritual that lasted from the moment the sun began peeking over the horizon and ended with the last player’s mom called from a far off porch telling us it was time for bed.  There was very little that could disrupt our continuous ball game.  But on a fateful day in mid-July 1969; all play stopped.

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Why Columbus Day?

Today is Columbus Day. Well technically yesterday was Columbus Day and today is Columbus Day Observed. It always drives me crazy when the government decides it can randomly change the date of a holiday in order to conform to a workday. I think that frustrates me because the only reason that they move the holiday is so that they get a day off from work. That is like putting my kids in charge of monitoring the cookie level in the cookie jar. No matter how good their intentions I can guarantee that the cookies will be distributed in such a way that they will get the most while the rest of us will get a subset of the total available cookies. The fact that I had to get up this morning and go to work while the postal service, retail banking, and government workers were able to sleep in has not endeared me to Columbus Day Observed. But that’s not the only issue I have with Columbus Day.

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It’s Tough Getting Old

“Bleep, bleep, bleep” Almost on reflex you reach over and smack the alarm clock hoping that this time it will be the death blow that will put it out of its misery. Every morning it is the same thing; a perfectly good dream is interrupted by that alarm clock. You think to yourself, “one of these days I am not going to have to listen to that thing. One of these days I am going to have a day all to myself without anyone telling me what to do.” It’s funny; you’ve been saying that since you were a teenager. Back then the alarm clock was beckoning you to get up and get ready for school. Ah, those were the days. As if on cue the alarm is silenced and instead music begins emanating from the speaker. You lay there being serenaded by Gloria Gaynor as she sings, “I Will Survive”. That somehow seems appropriate this morning and you wonder if that song was meant for you or for the alarm clock that you nearly destroyed again. Maybe today won’t be so bad after all. Even before you could complete that thought the disc jockey ruined the moment when he said, “well there’s an oldie goldie we haven’t heard in a few decades.” Great that is just what you need; another ‘punk kid’ reminding you that you’re not getting any younger.

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Father’s Day

Father’s Day is always an interesting day at our house. It has evolved a lot over the years of our marriage. It began as a simple day where things just kind of flowed. When the kids were really young we usually celebrated with a handmade card and perhaps breakfast together. As we collected more kids and they got older the celebration got a little bit larger and more involved. Trina would work with the kids to make sure to take each of them shopping and allow them to pick out something for their dad. This usually meant that I received a very eclectic series of presents ranging from stuffed animals to art supplies to colorful shirts. As the kids are now starting to get old enough to start leaving the house for school the holiday continues to evolve. Now I usually get an e-card along with a note saying that they are poor college students and if I could please send money they would be happy to send me something (assuming I send enough money since they had things to buy too). It’s not just about the gifts though.

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Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?

Time is an interesting animal that refuses to be domesticated. I have sort of a love hate relationship with time. From a scientific perspective I am fascinated by the whole concept of time. It is an invention to allow man to measure the inconceivable. For whatever reason as a species we are consumed by the idea that we must measure and compare one instance of existence to another. Some people choose to use these measurements to place value comparisons on their evolution. Others hope to mark off each moment as a sign that they were here. It is as though they are afraid that without somehow marking it down their lives would hold no value. Time follows us everywhere we go and we cannot escape it. Even after we have passed beyond the boundaries of this mortal life we are still measured by time. Visit any cemetery and look at the headstones. The majority of these are filled with the concept of time. These carved stones mark the final resting place of a human beings earthly vessel. Does the stone give us any indication of the type of life these people lived? Instead all we know of their journey through this world is their arrival and departure time.

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