Withering away

Prior to my surgery last Friday, I had to get cleared with a standard Pre-Op. There, I was coaxed into getting on the scale. It should be noted that the scale and I have not been friends. Not since day one when I entered this world at a whopping 10.1 lbs.

My mother, and my father, never let me forget this.  Later on my family life, he would refer to me as The Big One.

"Tell the Big One to take out the trash."

"I need the Big One to mow the yard."

"No more chocolate cake for the Big One."

He would usually say this in a jocular manner, but it did leave its mark. I suspect my extra poundage was an affront to his Post-Depression sensibilities, where he had to fight off his two brothers for a pat of butter for his bread. If they had bread. It also clashed with his self image as a young boy growing up on the tough streets of the Bronx.

He religiously lifted weights so he'd be prepared for any scuffles that could happen off the Grand Concourse.

Last week, for the first time in a long time, the scale was incredibly forgiving. I tipped in at 173 lbs. If I leaned to my left a bit, it actually dipped to 172.6. 

The last time I weighed that much...er, that little, was before I entered high school. This may not seem like blog worthy material, but then we crossed that threshold a long time ago.

At one point, in the not so distant past, I had ballooned up to 235 lbs. I was packing enough flesh for 2 Dad Bods. It was not pretty (not that I've ever been accused of that) but to this day I can't look at any of those photos. I couldn't even look at my old fat guy clothes, which have been dutifully donated to the Jewish Women's Council Thrift Shop.

It's quite surreal to go from a lifelong mindset to a completely new one. And as you might imagine I'm quite proud of the achievement. Mostly because I did it on my own. No Ozempic. No gastric sleeves. Just cut out red meats and processed foods and started eating more from the produce section. And a ton of salmon.

Over the past four years, close to a literal ton of salmon.

When my new hip is up to the task, I will resume my swimming, biking, walking and weightlifting with a vengeance. Because according to my smart digital scale which can calculate all kinds of data and even tells me my bank account balance, I should weigh 165 lbs.

Which means there's still some work to do. Also, you can never tell a former fat guy that he's too thin. It doesn't work that way. Ever.