So the chart has been bouncing around a bit this week and so has the blog. I did have a post on Wednesday and forgot to post it elsewhere, it can be found here. It is a brief synopsis of what will happen the next few weeks, check it out. As for the weight thing, well I sort of took a rest because there was so much going on this week. Not a huge rest, just a little one. The upshot is that I am now at 22% body fat which is pretty good. I think I can beat last week's weigh in but I don't think I will break the next barrier of 190 lbs. I have been so busy with friends and finishing projects around the house and work, the bouncy bit doesn't bother me much. Like my dad always said, some days the dragon wins.
One of the first things I noticed after losing so much weight is how much I started to look like my father. I am not really sure if I saw it in the mirror before even though I often see it in my personality. I had always looked a lot like my mother before and that is generally true for most men. Somehow my father's genetics came out in a big way. You might not necessarily see the difference or even agree but I can tell you that my father's eyes stare back at me now. It's a bit disconcerting.
All our lives we search for small ways to define ourselves, what we do, what we say, how we act and often how we look. Some of us want to distinguish ourselves from the herd, as it were, while some want to blend in with the cattle. I was never the latter. I should say I haven't been the latter since I was about 13 years old or so. Blending in was a survival technique from moving so often; keep your head down and don't draw attention. Making yourself noticeable was a sure way to get your ass kicked until you learned how to kick ass.
My dad has always been a bit fiery and sometimes curmudgeonly. I have no doubt that he would have won any fight that he was faced with in life. He is also a very funny man and few things can keep him down for long. The man can work his body to failure and often has at times. He just has this spirit I always hoped I could acquire somehow and maybe I have, I will never be sure. So seeing my dad staring back at me in the mirror was not necessarily a bad thing. It's what the eyes say at times that sets me aback. What man will you be? Are they proud eyes? Do they like the man they see? There is some phantom limb effect that I have where it occurs to me, at small quiet moments, that my eyes are no longer mine, they are now truly my father's.
As I have went down this little path I have chosen the past few months, I see more than a glimmer of my dad in my resolve. In some ways it has been another motivator among several as I have went along. My father has never heard the word quit. One time my dad and his brothers built an extension to my Grandparent's house over a weekend - roof and all.
When I shake off this mortal coil, I can only hope that people will say, I was so much like my father. I can not fathom a greater ending to a life well lived. My only wish is my children will hope for the same.
One of the first things I noticed after losing so much weight is how much I started to look like my father. I am not really sure if I saw it in the mirror before even though I often see it in my personality. I had always looked a lot like my mother before and that is generally true for most men. Somehow my father's genetics came out in a big way. You might not necessarily see the difference or even agree but I can tell you that my father's eyes stare back at me now. It's a bit disconcerting.
All our lives we search for small ways to define ourselves, what we do, what we say, how we act and often how we look. Some of us want to distinguish ourselves from the herd, as it were, while some want to blend in with the cattle. I was never the latter. I should say I haven't been the latter since I was about 13 years old or so. Blending in was a survival technique from moving so often; keep your head down and don't draw attention. Making yourself noticeable was a sure way to get your ass kicked until you learned how to kick ass.
My dad has always been a bit fiery and sometimes curmudgeonly. I have no doubt that he would have won any fight that he was faced with in life. He is also a very funny man and few things can keep him down for long. The man can work his body to failure and often has at times. He just has this spirit I always hoped I could acquire somehow and maybe I have, I will never be sure. So seeing my dad staring back at me in the mirror was not necessarily a bad thing. It's what the eyes say at times that sets me aback. What man will you be? Are they proud eyes? Do they like the man they see? There is some phantom limb effect that I have where it occurs to me, at small quiet moments, that my eyes are no longer mine, they are now truly my father's.
As I have went down this little path I have chosen the past few months, I see more than a glimmer of my dad in my resolve. In some ways it has been another motivator among several as I have went along. My father has never heard the word quit. One time my dad and his brothers built an extension to my Grandparent's house over a weekend - roof and all.
When I shake off this mortal coil, I can only hope that people will say, I was so much like my father. I can not fathom a greater ending to a life well lived. My only wish is my children will hope for the same.
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