I’m always leery of going for a walk when it’s in the 90’s, especially when the humidity is high. You have to be prepared in case you get overstressed from the heat – you need a big hat, lots of water, glucometer, glucose tabs, parasol, ham radio, portable world-band antenna, full field pack, helmet liner, emergency blanket, lifeboat rations, emergency locator transmitter, St. Bernard with little cask of brandy, Sherpa guide, satellite surveillance…
It’s just too damn much work. I want to go for a little walk. If I want to go on a hike with Sgt. Hulka, I would have joined the Army and struggled with don’t-ask-don’t-tell. (They would have figured it out. They would have had to poke their eyes out with a brooch to miss it.) So I do the next best thing: I go to the mall and walk in the air-conditioning. This has two effects, one positive, one negative.
The positive effect – my BG when I finished my walk was 96. Huzzah! Wetsu! C’est magnifique! Couldn’t have asked for better. Well, I could have asked, but I wouldn’t have gotten it. If I don’t get a billion tax-free dollars and the girls from Charmed in my Yule stocking when I ask for them, I’m not gonna get that, either. Oh, the ignominy of it all…mock suffering look
The negative effect – I spend money at the mall. Now, mind you, it’s not what you think…I bought no shoes, no clothes, and I stayed religiously away from Cinnabon. But I ducked into Borders and got an Alton Brown cookbook, and hit Kitchen Capers, where I priced a Kitchen-Aid stand mixer, and bought a new probe thermometer to replace the one that died while I was making a roast. Then I walked all the way around the mall, and bought one of those oversized universal remotes for my partner, who is always mislaying the remote. This one is the size of a coffee-table book, so she can’t lose it. I’m serious – the buttons are the size of quarters.
Why do I want a stand mixer? A Kitchen-Aid can do ANYTHING. I want the meat-grinder attachment to make homemade sausage, so I can control the fat content myself, and grind other things besides meat. They also have an ice-cream freezer bowl attachment…I want to make sugar-free sorbet. I have an idea for Emergen-C sorbet that won’t leave my taste buds alone, ever since I made soda out of the stuff.
And I’m dropping weight like crazy. I guess no longer eating 3,000+ calories a day and eating more like 1,600-1,900 a day will do that. I was 325 two months ago. I weighed myself on Monday…290.
All in all, a good day. I have no major complaints.
(Hey, don’t mention that Charmed girls comment to my lifepartner. Not that she’d be mad…she’d want me to SHARE.)
Hey Gwen:)
Would you come over to the “Weight Loss Team”? I’d love for you to share with us how you’re doing and what you’re doing to lose the weight. sigh… I’m working at it it: but you’re an inspiration! I know that walking does help lower those numbers… I’ve done my share of walking Walmart:)
Please Join us:)
MeadowLark
ME? An “inspiration”? Shucks, Ma’am…spare me my blushes…
I think it’s pretty much that I’m not eating my fool head off on junk. I used to eat half a large pizza (pepperoni and bacon), washing it down with a major dent in a 2-liter bottle of Coke Classic, then eat a couple of ice cream sandwiches for dessert…then have a snack later…something healthy, like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, with a glass of coffee milk. And that was normal. If I got away with 3000 calories a day, sitting with my ample tuchis planted firmly in my big, comfy recliner, with my big screen tv, wi-fi laptop, ham radio station, and Gods know what other entertainments all at hand, I was practically DIETING.
Hell, hon…the radiation alone from half of what I used to eat in one day would probably kill most of the folks on this system. Just thinking about that much sugar and other carbs is probably gonna make their pancreases ache. My own bod didn’t like it one tiny little bit, and finally decided to file for separate maintenance.
I don’t think I really did all that much to lose the weight…I just think the massive pile of suet that’s been abandoning me just got tired of waiting for more pizza, and hitched to the nearest Dominos. It’s probably mugging delivery boys for their cinna-sticks and hand-tossed meat-lovers’ pizzas, leaving the boxes in alleys like discarded bones.
But sure, I’ll pop over to the weight loss team and see if I can add my 2 cents worth.
And if you see something skulking about in the shadows, chewing on a piece of crust, warn me. I chuck a rock at it, and it scurries away.