Thursday, January 14, 2010

Oil can

Spent the evening just thinking about looking at bathing suits at Lands' End. But I couldn't actually look. Not yet.

Need to be rested, and maybe I also need to have exercised in some way/shape/form before I do it.

Not that I need a little exercise. I need a lot of exercise.

I have, in the parlance, "let myself go." Or, as I've begun saying, "I have expanded my horizons to an alarming degree." Right now, my horizons are on par with those of the Central Plains--a vast expanse with no end in sight, for those geography-challenged among you.

Of course, it's no surprise that this has happened. As you know, I've been through a rough patch lately. And "lately" is since April of 2008, when my gal was diagnosed.

Like far too many people, when the going gets rough, my people get eating.

Not that I overate the whole time, mind you. For most of this time, I ate and exercised I as usually have, mostly. And for part of this patch, I followed a strict food regimen with Linda that consisted of vegetables (mostly carrots and potatoes), flax oil and nonfat yogurt. While that diet kept the weight off, it also turned me an alarming shade of orange.

Looking back, I don't think I really put the feedbag on until a few months before Linda died. And I've kept it on until now.

Not really a good idea, this I know. One downside is that I've become increasingly creaky. I've learned that my carcass needs to move around on a regular basis or I start feeling like the Tin Man when we first meet him in "The Wizard of Oz." After a two-hour meeting at work this morning, a coworker asked me if I was limping, and I had to admit I probably was. After I walk a while I smooth out, but if I've been sitting for a while, it's not pretty.

You should see me first thing in the morning! Come to think of it, you shouldn't.

And no, walking the Bombshell doesn't cut it. She doesn't walk, really. She meanders. And a good meander may be wonderful for contemplation, but it's not exercise.

So, I am going to try to get moving again. Maybe, just maybe, my creakiness will abide. Maybe I'll also be able to look for a swimsuit. We'll see....

No comments: