Things My Dog Has Taught Me #2

The weather is never too bad to go to the park.

Diet Measurements Week 6

Back on track for this week, although the numbers look much better in the middle of the week instead of after my scheduled binge day. But I can fit into the khakis I bought two years ago, and that was one of my original goals. So yay, me :)

Measurements Week 6
Weight - 174.6
Body Fat % - 17.4
Total Inches (TI) - 141.75

Have a good week everyone!

The Rider and the Elephant

I've been reading an interesting book lately, Switch: How to Change Things When Change Is Hard. In the book, the author likens a person's willpower to a rider of an elephant, the elephant being a person's emotions and instincts, the rider being a person's rational mind. There have been many terms for these parts of the psychic apparatus. Freud called them the id and the ego.


What is interesting to note is that there have been studies that show that willpower is a finite resource. Like a muscle, it can be exhausted, giving free reign to the elephant. The main premise of the book is that the best way to change a behavior is to get the elephant and the rider going in the same direction, otherwise the rider will become exhausted and the elephant will return to its prior behavior. Sound familiar? Yo-yo dieting anyone?


So, how do you change the direction of the elephant? You can't appeal to it rationally. That's the rider, remember? You have to appeal to a person emotionally. In The 4-Hour Body, Tim Ferriss refers to this as a Harajuku Moment, or what Malcom Gladwell referred to as a Tipping Point. It is the point when a person emotionally buys into the idea the rider is presenting.


I had my Harajuku Moment last December. I broke a tooth while eating breakfast, chewing a piece of bacon. It was at that point that I realized that if I didn't take better care of myself then things would keep breaking, things much more serious than a tooth. A silly little moment, but it caused me to reevaluate my whole lifestyle, and brought me to the conclusion that I have to start taking better care of myself. Rationally, I always knew I should, but it took this to get the elephant to agree.


Was this a true moment or did I manufacture it? Really, does it matter? It got me to change my behavior. If you want to change something, find an emotional reason to do it. Save the planet, see a grandchild graduate high school, complete a marathon, avoid a dentist. Find an emotional response and tie your willpower to it. That is an unbeatable combination.

Diet Measurements Week 5

Not sure what happened this week. I thought I was being good, but obviously nefarious forces are plotting against me. I have a list of suspects lined up for your perusal:

Suspect Number One:

I love these things. They are allowed on the diet but, serving size?
I checked the can: One serving 170 calories. Serving size, 18 pieces.
Oops.





Suspect Number Two:

A glass of wine in the evening might be wrecking my diet. Going to try without.











Suspect Three:

You can never completely rule out clowns.










Suspect Four:

Ok, I'm pretty sure this last one is off the hook.








Measurements Week Five:

Weight - 176.2
Body Fat % - 17.9
Total Inches - 143.5

Have a good week everyone.

Things My Dog Has Taught Me #1

It's impossible to poop with a tennis ball in your mouth.

The Healer's Wife Part 7 of 7

The sun was sinking low, painting the western sky in shades of pink and orange, when there came the sound of small footsteps inside the house. A little girl bound barefoot through the door, paused briefly, her face lighting at the sight of her father. She rushed to his arms, squealing with delight as he lifted her high into the air.

Her husband followed onto the porch, reached forward to accept the father's hand. "Thank you," the man said through tears. "Thank you so much. Please, allow me to pay you."

Her husband waved the notion away, a gesture she'd seen many times before. "No need," he said. "Be a good father to that little girl."

"I will" said the father. "I will." He turned to the woman. "Thank you." He then walked down the steps into the street, the little girl waving over his shoulder.

She watched them go, the father and the little girl. It was the right thing to do, she realized. You were right. It was the right thing. She felt her husband's gaze upon her now, his gentle smile directed toward her.

"May I help you?" he asked. "I don't believe we've met."

The Healer's Wife Part 6 of 7

After she had drawn her promise from her husband, she had gone door to door throughout the village, explaining to all that lived there the reasons for her husband's retirement. She had worried that the villagers would not understand, that they would come running after the first accident or illness, but her fears were unfounded. All knew that wizards paid a price for their magic, some a steep price, but they were shocked to discover the price her husband paid for his. Shocked and humbled. Never once had they thought to ask what was given, and so her husband had paid.

He had paid with sunny days and rainy, paid with childhood dreams and childhood friends. He had paid with his son's first step, his mother's smile, his father's nod. He'd paid with sunsets and sunrises, with wind in his hair, cool water on his feet. He'd paid with sorrow and pain and joy and grief, had paid with all of these, paid with all but her, had clung to her, and for a while they had been happy, enjoying what days they had left.

The Healer's Wife Part 5 of 7

She sat on the porch, waiting for her husband. The father sat with her. She couldn't bear to look at him, the worry on his face too closely mirroring that in her heart. Instead she gazed at her lap, at the hands resting there. They were spotted and hooked, parchment skin stretched tight across swollen knuckles. She raised her head to stare at the empty doorway.

The silence was broken by the father's voice. To his left, the sun was drawing long shadows across the dusty yard.

"Why did you try to send me away?" he asked. She would have expected to hear anger in the words, but there was only confusion.

She felt her own anger rising, aimed toward a man who was only trying to save his daughter. "I tried to turn you away because I knew he would help you."

The man sat forward. "Is that so bad? I'm willing to pay any price--"

She gripped her skirts in an effort to stop her shaking hands. "You'll pay nothing!" He sat back, surprised by her sudden fury. "You'll pay nothing," she repeated. "Nothing." She slumped in her chair, her hands going limp. "You don't know," she whispered, "you don't know what you've asked him to do."

Measurements One Month (With Photos)

Ok, so it has been one month today since I started the diet, and I wanted to do pictures every month so here they are, before on left and after on right:

Front:

Side:

Back:

And the measurements(before and after):

Weight - 182 <> 175

Body Fat % - 22.4 <> 17.5

Total Inches - 144 <> 143

A few observations:

• I was farther away from the camera in the second shots, so it makes me appear smaller. Even taking that into consideration, I do appear to have lost a little weight, especially in the side shot.
• The large drop in Body Fat % was due to my getting a new scale. I was starting to suspect the old one, so I upgraded. The new one is giving me 4% less body fat than the old one. Does this mean I've lost 5% body fat since I started? I don't think so. The other measurements do seem to indicate I have lost some fat, however, especially when you look at the tape measure. Next month I'll have a more solid body fat benchmark.
• I've mentioned before that I think I am allowing some error to creep into my tape measurements, especially the thigh, which change depending upon how high up the thigh I take the measure. However, I have lost nearly two inches off my waist, and added at least some mass to my thighs, so I think I can trust that my body fat % has improved.
• If you want to sell scales, make one that lies to you. I am extremely satisfied with my new scale simply because the readings are better.
• Great diet so far! I only cheated once last month, so it's very easy to stay on the program. I haven't been hungry after the first week, and the things I thought I would miss I haven't.
• On to month two!

The Healer's Wife Part 4 of 7

She had discovered the truth five years ago, the terrifying truth of the price he paid for the use of his gift. The clues had always been there. Afterward, she was amazed she had failed to see them earlier. He had always been a quiet man, not one to talk or dwell on the past. She now knew why.

"You must stop," she said. "You must stop immediately."

"How can I?" he replied. "How can I turn people away knowing I can help them?"

"What of yourself? What of us?"

He turned his face from her, and she balled her hands into fists and beat them upon his chest, beat until her gasping sobs sapped her strength. He held her then, held her until her crying abated, until she had the strength to push herself away and look at him. His face was no longer turned.

"I will never give you up," he said.

"Never?" She hugged him close, whispered in his ear. "But you will. One day you will."

He drew her away, raised her chin with gentle fingers. "Promise me," she said before he could speak. "Promise me, and I'll believe you."

"I promise," he said, and there in his arms she allowed herself to believe.

The Healer's Wife Part 3 of 7

The man stood in the sunlight hugging his daughter to his chest. He had not attempted to climb the steps, nor had he tried to speak to her again. Why did he not just go away? Fear began to rise in her chest, a small bird beating its wings against her ribs. He was waiting for her husband. He would be home soon.

She was not a cruel woman, but panic drover her to her feet. "You must leave," she said. "You cannot remain here." The father ignored her, did not turn to face her. "Leave now, or I shall call the constable."

He turned then and she saw in his eyes that he would not leave. Of course he wouldn't. His daughter was dying.

"There's need of a constable?"

Both turned to the sound of the new voice. Her husband was approaching from the street, walking in his long, comfortable strides. The man rushed to his side.

"Please, sir. My daughter. You must help her. She's..."

Her husband lifted a hand to silence the man, then drew back the blanket that covered the child's face. For long moments he stood studying her before lowering the blanket. "Bring her inside," he said.

The man hurried to comply, bounding up the steps and passing through the open doorway. Her husband moved to follow, but before he could pass she grabbed his elbow and pulled him aside. He winced at the strength of her grip, and she smoothed the cloth of his shirtsleeve. "You promised," she whispered. "Remember your word."

He reached over and patted her hand, allowing his to rest momentarily upon hers. It was warm and comforting. "It does no harm to examine her. It may be that she is beyond my care."

She turned her hand and gripped his fingers. "Then why look?" she asked.

He smiled at her, and in that smile she saw his decision, the life they shared coming to a close. He withdrew his hand and wiped a tear from her cheek. He kissed her then, lightly, before passing through the doorway, his form swallowed by the shadows of the house.

The Healer's Wife Part 2 of 7

They had known each other since childhood, he the son of a stonecutter, she the daughter of a local merchant. She had always known they would marry, but had been forced to wait many years before he finally came to the same conclusion. During that time, he struggled as a stonecutter's apprentice, showing little aptitude for the shaping of stone, for the cutting of cornices or the splitting of rock. She feared they would starve, or worse, be forced to live on her father's dowry, until one day he discovered his talent. Much to her father's dissatisfaction, her husband proved to be a wizard, one adept in the healing arts.

They were married, and moved into a house on the poorer side of town. As word spread, people brought their sick and he healed them. He never set a price, choosing rather to accept whatever was offered. They made enough to feed themselves and their newborn son, but they were never in danger of growing wealthy. It made her angry. The established wizards uptown lived comfortable lives in expensive homes. Why could they not live as those wizards? One day she asked him.

"These people cannot afford to pay the other wizards," he explained. "They have nowhere else to turn but to us." It was the end of the argument. She never brought it up again.

Though they were poor, they were happy, and would have gladly lived their lives in that place had not word of mouth brought the attention of the established wizards. Although her husband only served those who could not afford to pay their fees, they saw him as a danger to their monopoly, and so the threats began. When it became apparent that threats wouldn't suffice, their son fell ill to a mysterious affliction and the message was understood. They moved to the coast, away from the city and the corruption it fostered. The boy recovered, and world spread throughout the coastal towns of the healer moved into their midst. They settled and raised a family. Their child grew into a young man, married, and moved away to start a family of his own. Life fell into a pattern. They grew old together.

The Healer's Wife Part 1 of 7

She was on the porch when he arrived, a sick child in his arms. She didn't recognize the man. He was not of the town, nor was he one of the regular migrant workers who passed by seasonally trailing family behind them as they chased the cycles of harvest up and down the coastline. No, she'd never seen this man before, but she knew why he approached, knew what he carried in his arms, recognize the tight, frightened look on his face.

"He's not here," she said as the man drew close, halting him before he could place foot upon the low step.

He squinted in the sun, gazing up to where she sat in the cool shade. Fine dirt clung to his pants and work boots. It settled like powdered cinnamon upon his face and shoulders, dusted the dark bundle he held in his arms. "She's sick," he said, "my daughter." He held her forward as if to offer proof. Two small feet hung limp below the blanket, gray toes in the morning sunlight. "I was told--"

"It doesn't matter what you were told," said the woman. "He's not here."

The man took a step forward, desperation creeping into his voice. "But he must look. She's sick! She will die!"

The woman sat unmoving in her chair. "I'm sorry. My husband's retired. You must leave."

Diet Measurements Week 3

Considering all I ate yesterday, this isn't too bad. The pants are fitting a little looser.

Weight - 176.6

Body Fat % - 21.5

Total Inches - 142.25

Ah Saturday!

Saturday is my free day. I have no diet restrictions on Saturday, no workout, no job responsibilities(usually), no agenda. If I want to eat a gallon of Hagan Daz and drink a barrel of beer, sugar coma and alcohol poisoning here I come! I can even sleep in if I want, although my dog has made my alarm clock obsolete. Anyone who says you can't feel a stare has never had a Labrador retriever using mind control on you from the corner of the bed.

Get up. Get up. Feed me. Feed me. Get up. Get up.

So anyway, Saturday has become a shining beacon on a hill, a place I strive to reach during the week. When I feel weak, I stare at my beans and vegetables and think about the pizza and chocolate ice cream I have squirreled away in the freezer. Just get to Saturday. Just make it to Saturday. Saturday will make everything better. Saturday. Saturday. Saturday...

Sunday it's back to the grind, but shhhh, don't think of that now. For now, baby, for today, it's just you and me. Just you and me, Saturday. Just you and me.

And ice cream.