No More Mister Fat Guy

So, what now?

 

Going through this whole No More Mister Fat Guy project (trying to lose ten pounds—nine to be exact—in order to get down to a Body Mass Index of less than 25) has made me think of a possible plot-line for a novel. A very large man unhappy about his being overweight embarks upon a weight loss program, and undergoes a big transformation (much more so than my own), basically going from fat to skinny only to find the change somewhat anticlimactic when all is said and done. He finds he is no more or less happy than he ever was and that nothing, other than his wardrobe needs, has really changed. Whether this would be someone’s experience if they lost forty pounds as opposed to ten, I can’t really say, but I’m finding my own success a bit of, well, a non-event.

 

All to say, that I’ve basically reached my goal, which I’m certainly happy about. While the weight can still manage to fluctuate a pound or two, putting me back above the 180 mark, I did hit 178.5 over this past long president’s day weekend, and have weighed in at 179 more than a few times either before or since, enough times to be comfortable with saying publicly as well as privately: mission accomplished. Goal reached. Followed quickly by a bit of a so-what feeling. As in: big whoop. And, maybe more to the point, what now? Maintaining a body mass index of just under 25 seems a lot less compelling than getting down to a body mass index of under 25.

 

And no wonder it's something of a letdown when you consider that this has been the extent of the reaction to my losing the nine pounds:

 

My wife seems happy enough with the change, though not overly so. Maybe she senses that while I want her to notice, I don’t want her to make too big a deal of it because that would be along the lines of saying, I didn’t really like you as much when you were fatter.

 

One of my wife’s friends said something to her about my having lost some weight, and then tried to get her partner to go read my blog and maybe get inspired to lose a few himself. This, I imagine, must have made the guy somewhat resentful. If I'd stayed fat and kept my mouth shut, this never would have become his problem.

 

My daughter finally noticed. One of my daughters that is. And it took almost two months of weight losing before she did. As we were getting on the squash court this weekend, and therefore she was seeing me in shorts and a t-shirt for the first time in a while, she said, “Have you lost weight or something?”

 

Yup. I have, I told her.

 

Ah, she nodded.

 

And that was that.