Tis the Season to Be, Uh, Fat

You know how it is. Many won't even try this time of year. They give up, throw in the towel, tap out. Not me. Not this time.

Oh, I have done it a lot. Lately even. But finally I really did hit bottom when I hit the top of the weight scale Monday a week ago. I lost two pounds over that week. Look what I face this week:

Monday - over 60 meeting at Itta Bena Baptist, catered my Larry's Fish House.
Wednesday = a trip to Jackson with John which means at least one fast food meal.
Thursday - Thanksgiving which means way too much food times two. We eat at my in-law's for lunch, and my siblings and I meet at Mom's for supper and the Egg Bowl.
Friday - a trip to Jackson with my wife which mean at least once restaurant meal.
Saturday - Thanksgiving number three with Forrest Hodge and Paul Brown.
Sunday - we always eat lunch out.

Every time I eat out, the scale says I weight three pounds more the next morning. Really, that is not an exaggeration. That means I will gain 18 pounds this week.

I'll shoot myself first.

It is not just a matter of vanity. No, I don't want my stomach poking out. I think it looks ridiculous, and I don't want to be 'that guy.'

It's not just a matter of athletic performance. Yes, the extra weight is good for nothing except cold water swimming which I am no good at anyway.

It's not just a matter of me outgrowing all my clothes. Yes, I had to purchase new pants within the last month.

It's not just a matter of I can't stand the way this feels. Yes, I am miserable with my weight, and find it difficult to breathe and restrictive to certain movements.

It is very much a matter of health. Yes, I've heard of "healthy fat," but I'm pretty sure that with my genetics that can't be me. I just watched my mother die of a dreadful condition that was brought on by a very preventable one. She never abused her health. She never did anything to invite illness. She lived an exemplary life of love and service and sacrifice. She was only a little overweight for a few years. She paid dearly for that. If I don't change my weight and change it permanently, I fear I face the same fate, and it is not a pretty one.

Last week, an old friend phoned my and while we chatted, he revealed his recent diagnosis of the same thing that killed my mother. He has another terminal illness (lucky guy), and though I didn't tell him, in my mind I thought, I hope the first one gets him because he has no idea what he's in for with the second one.

No matter how much we may think about it, I am convinced we all take our health for granted. God forgive me for this omission and help me to be more thankful for and a better steward of the health you have gifted me with.

Hey, I had a victory, or at least a tie, this week. In preparation for Monday night, I walked 4.35 miles and did some squats. This morning? The same, my weight was the same. At least I didn't gain. Now I have another five days and six dangerous meals to deal with. My goal for the week is to lose .2 of a pound. That is almost nothing, but with the lineup I face, that will be a real victory. What do you think, will I make it?

"Thanks be to God Who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."