True confessions ...

Wow, my true-confessions post last Friday sure elicited a lot of comments. (We bloggers love comments, so thank you, thank you, thank you!)

I love that I'm not alone. I know I'm not alone, I've been reading blogs long enough to know that lots of us have food issues. But it's nice to hear what trips you up, too, and it's wonderful to not feel judged.

Of the four actions I listed – continue the almost-daily walking, drink more water, stop snacking, lift weights – you can probably guess the one I haven't started doing yet. Not only am I too lazy to lift a dumbbell, I'm too lazy to go outside to the garage and up the stairs to fetch the dumbbells and put them in the house, where they'll be in sight and available.

This weight-training mental block is bigger than my pants size. The last time I lost a significant amount of lard, dumbbells and barbells and push-ups helped me break through a plateau. It was dramatic, and very noticeable.

If I know it makes a positive difference, what is stopping me from trying it? Mostly I think it's that the other things I know that should, potentially, make a difference – chiefly eating less and moving more – haven't helped, so why would I do something I really don't much care for when it probably won't work anyway?

How. Lame. Is. That?

I love that, for the most part, you shared your experience with me without offering suggestions. Empathy is so affirming and, for me anyway, makes me want to do better. I want to report to you in January that no summer sausage made it into the house or down my gullet for the remainder of the college football season. I want to please you, kind of like the way a puppy wants to please its human.

Something that has crossed my mind many times, usually after I've eaten something that sabotages my efforts, is this: Never trade what you want most for what you want at this moment. I'm not sure if what I want most is to see my dad again, and thus I continue to snack my life away, or if I want his example to help me lose this weight for the last time (is that even possible?) so I can truly enjoy what's left.

I'm 60. Barring a horrific accident or catastrophic illness, I could live long enough to see my great-grandchildren. Do I want to meet them from a wheelchair, too infirm to walk, or do I want to walk with them – up and down stairs, around the block, into their schools?

No one lives forever, but I'd really like the last quarter or third of my life to be as comfortable and meaningful as possible. Keeping that thought first has been challenging. What I want now is the easier, softer way, but nothing of value comes easily. I've been focusing on my dad and his health problems as a way to stay on the right path, but I need to think more positively about the next 20 or 30 years. I need to shift the conversation in my head from what he couldn't do to what I want to continue to do.

Anne offered to do the water challenge with me. I did great over the weekend, downing six to eight glasses each day. I walked five miles Friday, three Saturday, and took a rest day yesterday. Having guests here for the weekend helped limit the snacking, but I can still do better there.

And now is as good a time as any to go get the dumbbells.

If you're still reading this novella, thank you for sticking with me. I use the blog to puzzle things out, and today has been especially productive. That you came with me is, um, icing on the cake. Heh.