Bad medicine

I really need to start over.

For the last month, my weight has basically stabilized at the same crappy number. I've been exercising as before, but must admit that I'm a bit tired of diet food. At least it has not crept up too much.

Last weekend my wife and I had a weekend to ourselves, as the children went with their aunt and gran to the Kruger National Park. Suddenly we had some free time, which all parents will tell you is a bit disconcerting when it sneaks up to you all of a sudden.  We decided to stroll through our local mall, as it's normally a bit like herding a clowder of cats through a field of near extinct ground-nesting birds. Don't worry, I also had to look up the collective noun for housecats. Google also suggests a "nuisance" of cats, but that would more aptly describe two teenage boys, a tween and a toddler. Wait...

The local Woolies had a sale on summer clothes, up to 65% discount. Usually this would be an exercise in despair for me. I'd dive in there, just to find oodles of 28-34 sized denims, but nothing in more me-like sizes. It always ended with me leaving the store under a cloud of self deprecation. Lo and behold, there were a few 36's and a 38 or two. I took a 38 and a 36 to the fitting room. The 36 just for checking how far I'm off. As it turned out, it fits! This was such a positive experience for me. When I showed my wife how it fits, she said that I look really well in it, with a twinkle in her eye. So now I am a proud owner of a size 36 jean.

I remember the last 36 denim I had. My mom bought it for me at Markham in Landros Marais street, just down the road from the Astra movie theater in Pietersburg, in 1987. I had a look on Google Earth. That store is still there! It was a stonewash denim. My dad's comment was, "Why didn't you buy a new one?" Shortly thereafter I hit the 40's, 42's and at the middle last year I was knocking on 44's door. Embarrassing.

What's really interesting about the belt photo, and I'm using "interesting" in the rudest possible way, is the angle of the buckle marks on the leather. It shows how my stomach was putting stress on the belt... Right is six months ago. Left is 15cm away.

I've resolved to reboot my diet. As if today is Day 1. Wish me luck.

Most of the people I meet that haven't seen me for a while, have the same question: "What are you taking?" That is such a sad question. I know it's really a bad example but it reminds me a bit of the Nike ad by Lance Armstrong where he says: "Everybody wants to know what I'm on. What am I on? I'm on my bike, bustin' my ass six hours a day. What are you on?" It's embarrassing today, but honestly that's the type of answer I would like to give. I made me fat, I am making me healthy again.

All those miracle shortcuts? Bad medicine in my opinion.