Of course, running by the bay, and having been engaged in San Francisco, the blood immediately started pumping, which got me through the first two miles. By the time I reached Tookis Bridge, however, I was fried, so I needed to revert to walking. After a mile of that, I decided to at least run out the last 1/2 mile. When I hit the 3-mile mark, I ran exactly three steps, when the following song started playing:
Three things: 1) My iPod could stand to use some cleaning out, 2) up your nose with a rubber hose, and 3) how perfect is that? Needless to say, short of Jesus materializing out of thin air wearing a headband and yelling at me to kick it up a notch (Jesus is an Emeril fan), the signs were all there. Time to get back on the wagon. And not the Chuck Wagon, mind you.
The question is, though, how have I been doing? Well, I've not been doing much at all. Over the last 11 months (inexcusable on my part, I know, to have gone that long without posting here), I've been sporadically exercising and dieting, though I've not truly regressed in any one capacity. I'm hovering right around 266, which is still 35 lbs. lighter than my initial staring weight of 301. Several months ago, I touched the mid-240s, but found the regiment of no dairy, no wheat too much to sacrifice, and spiked almost immediately upon abandonment. I've been getting a bit chubby lately, but the good news is that most of this is just excess weight that should melt off if I decide to apply myself for a few solid weeks.
Oh, and cookware. I can also give her cookware.
*****
So that's the story of the weight. But how does that pertain to everything else going on? The big thing I was doing this for was to be in somewhat reasonable shape when it came time to get measured and fitted for the tux. I've already been measured, and to spare my feelings, the salesman at Men's Wearhouse pretty much kept his facts and figures to himself. MW does have a 24-hour turnaround service to make adjustments as needed to the tuxes. My goal is to utilize that service by going into their store 25 lbs. lighter. Yes, my goal is to hit 240. I can do it. Hell, I lost 1 lb. after the run yesterday, so anything's possible, right?
But it will take commitment and dedication on my part, not ketchup and mustard. I would hate to look back on that wedding album in 20 years and see a beautiful bride walking down the aisle toward a pear-shaped ginger snap at the cliff's edge. That's simply not going to happen.
*****
In the last six months, the wheels have definitely been turning on the wedding planning. Compromises and hard decisions were the name of the game for awhile. Holls and I have found it is much easier to say how something is going to be than to actually implement it.
One of the hardest decisions we've had to make has been the guest list. For various reasons, the number of guests has varied from time to time. It currently stands at about 110, give or take a few. While the number has been a difficult thing to pin down, the much more difficult aspect of this has been deciding who's in and who's out.
As my parents will tell you, I am very much a people pleaser. I will sometimes go to great lengths to avoid bringing down the hard truth upon some unwilling soul (ironic, since my occupation is busting people for shoplifting). If it was in my power and budget to do so, every person I've ever met anywhere would be invited to this thing, so as to avoid hurt feelings and possible damages to friendships. Alas, it's simply not something I can do. A wedding - and consequently, marriage - is a never-ending compromise.
So, I instead have to resort to this. to anybody reading this - and I know people read this, or at least my weekly SiteMeter report tells me so - should you not receive an invitation, please do not take it as a sign that you're not our friend, or we don't like you, or anything like that. We simply had to make some hard decisions. Part of me is secretly terrified that these decisions will inflict irreversible damage into my various relationships. But, I hope that for those that don't receive an invitation, you can understand, and if you can't, that maybe you will one day. I know I don't have to offer up this explanation, and I probably seem like a wuss. I'm not going to apologize for making the hard decisions; I've been hard enough on myself as it is. I just hope we all understand the situation.
*****
So there it is. The Big Update. More will be coming. For now, I'm going to keep chiseling away at this temple that is my body, and will try to avoid the pitfalls of fast food and creamy cheeses. Because if I don't, I will forever look back at this moment and kick myself for not trying. And that is a weight I definitely do not want to carry.
