Progress

Progress is defined as a movement toward a goal, to advance toward a higher or better stage, or to improve steadily. In today’s society we expect progression to move at the speed of light. Take technology for instance; 30 years ago the first cellular telephone was invented and was the size and weight of a brick. 30 years ago, desktop computers were the brainchild of a since-departed Silicon Valley icon. 30 years ago, you didn’t have a device that could tell you exactly how to get to a destination, and tell you how long it would take before you arrived. A lot changes over 30 years. Just in the past 10 years we have witnessed some amazing feats when it comes to our societal structure. I, on the other hand, regressed from a healthy child to a rather unhealthy adult. Sometimes, progress is slow.

Take for instance the great engineering feats of the world; the Coliseum in Rome, the Great Wall of China, or the Pyramids of Giza, etc. These are all iconic signs of historical, human progression. Goals, if you will, that someone had in mind and worked very, very hard for over a long period of time. My situation is no where near comparable to the likes of such wonders of the world, however in my mind the progress I am making, as painstakingly slow as it is, is a major accomplishment.

Things that weigh 11 pounds:  44 sticks of butter, some 1-month-old babies, a bag of sugar, a full piggy bank, and a case of soda are some items that I was able to find on Google. It puts into perspective what I have shed over the past month. Yesterday was the end of January, which happens to coincide with my weekly weigh date. So far I am 11 pounds less. As I said, progress is slow. I am elated to see that it is doable, and at this rate I can be almost 70 pounds less by June. Now I have to start thinking about what weighs 70 pounds and that should help give me a big push for the next five months.

However, I have some hurdles to cross that are quickly coming up and I have to say, it’s going to take a will power of steel. In March, Leighanne and I are meeting my sister and LeAnne in New Orleans for Angela’s birthday. As excited as I am about this trip, I have this repeating “March of the Gallows” blaring in the back of my mind. I LOVE everything about that town. If there is one thing I love more than any, it is the cuisine. Being a decent cook and having a Southerner’s love of spicy food, this place is Heaven. Months before going to New Orleans I day dream of their fried shrimp po-boys, jambalaya, boudin balls, gumbo, alligator sausage and étouffée. I sit here wondering if there is going to be ANYTHING that I’ll be able to eat while I am there. If there were a fat-people hell where you were always hungry and were surrounded by a feast but couldn’t touch it, New Orleans would be the capitol.  Luckily I’ll have my Vegetari-Zen coach with me.

A month later in April, I will be going to the a family reunion with Leighanne’s and though it will be hard since most family reunions require a pot-luck feast of sorts or dining out, I don’t foresee it being a difficult weekend. However, that month I’ll also be flying out to Scottsdale, AZ for a convention for my company. Imagine three days of all expenses paid resort style luxury which, from what I understand, will be quite the party. They wine and dine their guest from the time they arrive to the minute they leave. As a lady in my office explained, they try to feed you from the time you wake up, have tasty snacks throughout the hallways, multiple menus on the walls of the elevator, and once you get off the elevator they try to herd everyone into one of the 4 or 5 on-site restaurants. All of this comped by the company no matter what I order.

A month ago these trips would have been a dream come true for my stomach and especially my taste buds. Now it seems more like a nightmare very similar to the ones where you suddenly realize you are walking through the grocery store with no clothes on, and pizza and ice-cream do not exists.  

Keeping my goal in mind, I know this will be a test. Although I am allowed to splurge from time to time, splurging doesn’t mean binging on whatever is within arms reach, or at arms reach of a waiter for that matter. I think I’ll tattoo 11 (or whatever number I have lost before I go) to the back of my hands to remind me of my goals. 20 pounds at a time. Every 20 pounds will reset my goal for another 20 pounds. I feel by making small, attainable goals I’ll work harder to reach it. Setting a higher 40-60 pound weight loss goal will take forever to achieve, and with the amount I should weigh for my height in the back of my mind, at the end of the day I already know my final number. Come hell or high-water, I will make this happen.