I haven’t blogged about my weight or my workouts in many months. The reason is embarrassing, because I had been slacking off and not going to the Y as often as I used to. I would get lazy, and only go twice a week instead of four times. So my body paid the price and I did not gain mass nor could I maintain the weight levels in the exercises that I had been doing. So with 2015 coming up I made the resolution to renew my gym efforts and return to the state of mind that would make me proud enough to crow about my progress.
On December 31 I weighed 165.2 pounds. This was a surprise, as I knew my weight had gone down from my peak of 177. I was in denial: I hadn’t stepped on a scale in months, although in reality I don’t think I stepped on the Y scale even once during 2014. When I stepped on during the final day of 2014 I feared that my weight might have dropped below 160. I could tell that I was slimmer and no longer looked as filled-out. My chest and arms did not look or feel as big as they did when I was 177. That’s the scary bit: I didn’t need a scale to tell me that I had lost weight. When I can feel the difference in my body size I got too scared to see the numbers blast the reality back in my face. What brought the reality back home more dramatically than any reduction in biceps size was hearing people ask me if I had lost weight. I had heard that question more than once. One friend from the Y remarked in the changeroom, just a casual remark which I don’t believe for a minute was intended to cause offence, that I used to look a lot more “cut”. I didn’t like how I had slacked off, and hearing about it from other people made me upset. I thought that I would endeavour to attain my peak weight again, and to do myself proud by going to the gym more frequently and by eating better and more often. One cannot make gains if one doesn’t eat at regular intervals. I would ignore meals or only eat breakfast and dinner. How can one maintain a weight of 177 by not eating?
Last night after my workout I stared in awe as the numbers on the scale read 180.0. I stood on the scale for an extended time, waiting to see if the digital display would flutter and register something less. Since December 31 I have been weighing myself regularly and on March 4 I attained 178.2, my new peak weight. Three weeks later on March 25 I was 179.0. So yesterday’s number came as a surprise, since I had always thought up to then that I would never get to 180.
Accompanying my smile as I stepped on the scale was a sense of exhilaration: that I had set a goal and kept to it and achieved the results I wanted. I felt proud, strong, a success.