A Weighty Ramble

This post is what I sometimes call a ramble.   I have something on my mind, a little stupid thing that is, as they say, renting space in my head for free.  Sometimes, writing about it serves as an eviction notice.  Let’s hope.  Last Thursday night at my Men’s Meeting, and old guy, even older than I … let’s call him Ozzie … walked up to me and after saying, Hi, Bud, he added, Are you gaining weight?  His annoying little smirk made it clear he thought he was being funny.  He wasn’t.

My life, like my Mom’s before me, has consisted of fairly long stretches of gradually gaining weight, then shorter periods of losing weight, also known as dieting.  The only time in my life that I didn’t gain weight was in my days of doing marathons and triathlons.  I’d happily blame my metabolism or a variety of aches and pains from my running days that interfere with my ability to exercise now, but I also love food, particularly carbs.  Some might suggest that I am what US News calls an Emotional Eater. In an article titled Stop Emotional Eating with These Five Tips, Deborah Kotz says, It’s easy to use food as a crutch. Maybe you had a particularly stressful day, and that sugar rush from a pint of Ben and Jerry’s is instant gratification. Or perhaps the problem lies deeper, and food fills a void in your life, like lack of a loving relationship or passion for your job. Only by acknowledging and examining these emotional hardships will you develop a healthy relationship with food. I have a loving relationship with my wife and I love my job and I don’t want a freaking relationship with my food, thank you. At 70, I’m not up to another trip down the pop-psychology highway, either. But it’s likely time to diet again … and exercise as much as these old legs will let me.

This isn’t the first time that someone in a meeting has felt an obligation to remind me about my weight and, usually, I manage a snappy comeback like, You know I weighed myself this morning and I’m down 20 pounds. You look a litle pale, though. Are you feeling sick? Ozzie wasn’t so fortunate … I don’t remember what I said, but it wasn’t nice. My Most Spiritual Side says I should be thankful that he pissed me off enough to consider dieting again. It’s good for me after all. I am very sorry, Most Spiritual Side, that’s not going to cut it this time. Those of us who have struggled with our weight are only too aware of every single pound we’re carrying. We don’t need reminders and even if we do, that’s why we have doctors. The rest of you can keep your opinions to yourself. My weight is my business, Ozzie. There. I feel better. How about you?

Explore posts in the same categories: curmudgeonly rants

Tags: curmudgeonly rants, diet, feeling older, love and marriage, perspectives

You can comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.