The Irony of Losing Weight

I have written here before about having lost quite a bit of weight over the last couple of years. It was explained to me, in the way you talk to your kids while explaining that vegetables are good for you, that I would receive a number of benefits (mostly long term) for losing the weight.

I was told that my health would improve and I would live longer, which frankly has less and less appeal every time I respond “No, thank you” to the question “Would you like some dessert?”

I was also told that the cost of my life insurance policy would go down, saving us money. However, somewhere in the back of my head, every time I think about disagreeing with my wife, is the fact that I am worth far more dead than alive — which, in a small way, mitigates the cost savings. Just saying.

And I heard my clothes would fit better, which isn’t true at all. My clothes fit just fine until I lost the weight. They were large, but they fit. They stopped fitting when I lost the weight, which required — what I understand is a positive for some people, but I consider a nightmare — clothes shopping. This tedious exercise, coupled with the huge expense of new clothes (both of which could have been avoided by my going back to my nightly, oversized bowl of ice cream), was not the positive experience I was led to believe it would be.

Then, this past Christmas morning brought the final blow to my enthusiasm for losing weight. My son gave me a 20-pound GoFit weighted vest that I am to wear when I go walking, which I do wearing a Fitbit (a previous gift) so that my activity can be constantly monitored and judged. It was explained to me that walking is a healthier workout when I am carrying the extra 20 pounds.

Are you kidding me??????

I worked hard to lose weight because it was unhealthy, and now, in one of God’s great jokes, I am forced to carry an extra 20 pounds — because it will make me healthier! Not the beautiful pounds that come from answering “yes” when asked if you want dessert, or from a quick trip to Cold Stone, or from a second helping of a favorite dinner entrée. Nope, these 20 pounds are “granulated steel shot packets that conform to my body.”

On the upside, it does look like I’m in training for the SWAT team, so that’s pretty cool.