An incoming plateau

by sethosayher

I haven’t posted here in a while. Like most of the blogs (okay, all of the blogs) I’ve made, I wimped out after three posts and returned to a life of media consumption. Actually making content was just too much work.

But I want to try again. Perhaps I’ll hone my writing chops AND learn more about Atkins, weightloss and myself in the process. Might as well, I have way too much free time on my hands. 

Okay, so I’ve lost a whopping 51 pounds as of this date. Pretty good for 13 weeks of work. I’ve actually maintained what seems to be a ridiculous rate of weight loss, one that I’ve taken for granted. I should be losing 2, maybe even 1 pound a week, but I’ve fast become accustomed to 2-3 pounds. 

The thing is that I’ll definitely be hitting some sort of plateau sometime soon. I’m talk two, three weeks (maybe even a whole month) of staying at the same weight.  

Yikes. I’ve been very lucky to have been losing weight so consistently the past few months, but I don’t relish having to weather weeks of a static needle on my scale. I’ve become mildly addicted to the high I get every few mornings at seeing my weight incrementally move down. 

I guess I’ll have to just endure the storm and hope that I survive with a slimmer waist. Cheers to that!

Now lets talk about something substantive.

Food & Emotion.

It’s no secret that people eat for reasons beyond mere hunger. Embedded in our culture in the idea of “comfort food,” indulgent meals that the recently heartbroken drown themselves into to flee their emptiness, pain or other negative feelings. I once had a 3 week tryst with a pack of frozen burritos after the wounds inflicted by a paramour. 

I for one have a long and venerable history of eating out of pure boredom. Seriously, boredom. Sometimes I ate because I depressed, sometimes because I was sad, but most of the time I ate because it gave me something to look forward to.

Picture this: a lonely teenager without much of a social life, constrained by fundamentalist parents and inhibited by his own awkwardness. What does he do? Play video games. Consume videos and media compulsively. Does homework and other obligations half-heartily. 

Food to this pitiable creature is one of few guaranteed pleasures he is to experience that day. Never mind what it does to his figure; he lacks enough self-awareness to really think about what he looks like. Forget about how much damage he’s doing to his health; the threat of heart-attack, stroke, diabetes and the other things he’ll likely struggle with later in his adult like are clouded by delusion and teen myopia. 

One of the greatest things about taking on a project like weight loss is the process of self-reflection it initiates in a person. Unthinking acts become subjects for lengthy meditations. Emotions previously unexamined are scrutinized and forced under the lime-light. The result is smarter, more fulfilled living. 

Realizing the role food played in my struggle with boredom helped me realize that I wasn’t living for anything. Not for a significant other, not for a particular passion or cause, not for others, not even really for the future. Acknowledging this has forced me to make a real effort to populate my day with things, tasks, challenges and duties. Don’t get me wrong, I’m hardly a model of activity. This very blog post is actually my timid attempt to get something done tonight. But I’m eating in better proportions and with greater foresight and consideration than ever before.

 

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