Wednesday, July 12, 2006

The Substance of Things Hoped For Part 1

Overall, I am tired. Physically, that is. It's the timetable my kids and I are on due to my son being in camp. It's a great thing, a great learning experience, but it is WORK. However, it shall be over soon enough. August will a break for us all. But that's not why I am writing.

The Bible tells us that Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. I think of this because of the optimism that has blossomed in my heart recently. Actually, I'm generally an optimistic person so it's not like this was an epiphany. It'a just always nice to feel like you're on the road to success. I do walk by faith and encourage everyone to do the same. Sometimes it is all you have to fuel you when all around you others are clearly losing their heads and are coming after yours.

This whole things centers on two things: my weight and my business. Mind you, I wrote here before that I do not enjoy making weight the topic of a discussion but I don't really mind it being the focus of my blogging soliloquies, you lucky things you!

I went home on Sunday after church to fix something to eat. One of the things I had to get back into the habit of was weighing and measuring my food. I don't do it for everything. I'm not THAT efficient! But for meats, for instance, I will. My new little scale says LA Weight Loss on the side of the dish that holds the food. I could just hide it but I opted to turn the printed part around and leave it where I could easily get to it.

This Sunday my sister-in-law and her husband were at the house and sitting at the dining room table. I was hungry so I decided to just do my thing and I tried to sneak in the weighing but she came over to talk to me. Darn it! I love her but I knew where it would go if she saw me. And she did. "Oh, you're so good! I wish I could be like that." Sigh. Let's come clean, shall we? If you - anyone - REALLY want to do something, you will. Let's not fake the funk, my friends. It's a waste of your time and my energy because I have to listen to you. I told her before and I told her again, "Well, I've gotta get back to where I was so...." The ellipses I am leaving out, " if you really are serious, you'll do what you have to and stop that wishing thing you're doing."

Man. I feel a conversation coming on. She mentioned they went out to eat after church, as if she had no control over that, and she mentioned the good thing she had fixed recently all while blocking the much needed stove. I stood there, fork in hand, as she stood strategically between me and the stove. I looked her in the eyes as she told me what she made once and the good things that went into it. I’m umm hmm-ing and uh huh-ing and dancing this weird little two-step.

Side step right. “I had this great tortilla dish.” “Ohhh!”
Side step left. “All I did was mix beans and tomatoes and....” I blanked. I just want to cook! Can’t you see the look of hunger in my eyes!
She’s on the point system. “Hey, whatever works for you,” I shrug. What am I supposed to say, exactly?

I hear her. I do. She finds me to be another soldier in the fight against fat; strategizing, sympathizing. But I’m not really. I'm just fed up and miss the me who was here before I had Daughter. All I think I'm doing is trying to create a good habit - watching what I eat, cooking as much as possible, overall being more deliberate. You know - eating to live, not living to eat. That whole mantra. So I am mad enough to fight my own little war but how do you do that on the sly?

Actually, I am enjoying my private war. Because of my schedule, I realized this time around that I really prefer planning what I will eat and knowing what's good and what's risky and what I should stay away from. Spell it out for me. That's cool. It works for me. I am still a solid 4 pounds down - it's only been a week so I guess I can't complain - and so excited about going back. It just feels good to take back that control.

And the optimism I opened with? Well, someone at work keeps pointing out that she notices what I wear. It's complimentary. She likes my bright colors - I tend to mix them with duller ones to tone it down just a tad. But I am so sick of my stuff because I know when I reach the top of Mount Monica’s Weight, the clothing selections dwindle rapidly. I refuse to buy more so my only option is to climb back down. So this co-worker calling attention to what she likes actually makes me turn red - although on me it's more like Burnt Sienna - but in a way it’s pushing me too. Little does she know how much I hate not dressing the way I really want to. I refuse to buy too much more right now because I know I won’t be this size by the end of the summer.

Anyway, I'm very optimistic about the whole thing and I can see myself where I want to be. And we all know if you can see it AND you believe it, you can achieve it! Thanks, Jesse Jackson!

Now the other thing is my business. But I’ll blog about that in a different post. Enough already!

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