Day 116: Daily Weigh-In

Yesterday was the first day I straight up didn’t weigh myself. I would say “forgot,” but it was only semi-forgetting. I was fogged on a lack of sleep. So I remembered the weigh-in, but only when I wasn’t in a position to to it.

That aspect of things is going well — a simple number, easy to do and to log. Really, failure to weigh yesterday was due specifically to sleep fail. And again, it’s all connected — good sleep, good exercise, good diet, staying sober.

Weigh-in every morning, first thing

The key really is to do it very first thing: get up, go to the bathroom, get on the scale, log the number. It’s oddly not a habit yet, though, despite it being a thing for almost two months now — you’d think it would become instinct at some point, but it still takes conscious thought.

Of the “simple ideas that are working out,” though, it’s one of the leaders. Again, it’s linked at the top menu of this site, so you can keep track of me (and some exercise numbers, too). Public accountability for the win!



Day Forty-Four: Stool Legs

If I were a stool, I’d be pretty freakin’ wobbly right now. One of my stool legs — sobriety — is rock solid. Exercise is wobbly. Diet… is definitely the shortest of the three.

Food logging’s been way off, snacking’s been way up, and I’ve been using the ol’ “one leg of the stool” excuse — hey, I’m being good about booze, so I can let these things go.

But I’m a smart guy. I’m a smart guy that’s been down this road before. I’m not entirely sure why I’m smart enough to see this, and know that it’s not a path that works, and still find myself on it.

You need three stool legs for stability.

I’m not sure why I’m fixated on my life being a stool, but that’s where I’m at — I’ve tried sober without exercise and diet control. That’s failed. I’ve tried exercise without diet and sobriety. That’s failed. You’ll never guess what else I’ve tried — yes, diet, but without exercise and sobriety. And that didn’t work out either.

I’m not gonna go through all the two-out-of-three combinations. Just trust me when I say that I’ve tried every two-leg permutation there is. I am not a man. I’m a stool.

I need three legs.

I think all the stools I have in the house are four-legged, actually. But I am a three-legged stool.

Well, maybe the fourth leg is sleep. Or a good relationship. Maybe I’m a five-legged stool. Possibly, I’m a centaur with a prosthesis.

Maybe I’m an octopus that gnawed off a couple of tentacles because I was caught in a trap. 

I think it’s time to stop before I Spanish Inquisition myself into oblivion. Three legs is a good stool. I need three legs. Maybe three legs are where my towel is.

Day Seven: (It’s Been) One Week

First and foremost, apologies for making you think of the “One Week” song. The Barenaked Ladies have a lot to answer for, and I say that as a Canadian who came of age when “Gordon” was burning up the charts.

But (it’s been) one week! I’ve had longer runs of sobriety — by factors — but this is definitely the longest span with such… intention? Especially when combined with better habits across the board.

One week in, I’m focusing on the trifecta.

Yesterday, I talked about taking on “the trifecta” of booze, diet and exercise, and how I’m trying to find a synergy there (and focus on other things I need to appreciate more) to make it feel less like the Bataan Death March of deprivation of everything I love.

I’ve had success in not drinking before, but I always used it as a permission to eat badly, or not exercise — at the time, I was trying to frame it as “don’t drink, but treat yourself in other ways” to make it seem like not drinking was kind of a treat in and of itself.

It never worked.

What would wind up happening is I’d stop drinking — which I enjoyed, but ultimately made me feel unhealthy and lousy — and do other stuff that I enjoyed and made me feel unhealthy and lousy.

So while there was a short-term “hey, not drinking isn’t so bad, I think I can get through this chips and ice cream,” softening of the not-drinking blow, I was doing stuff that made me ultimately feel bad.

So the end takeaway was my lizard brain saying “not drinking makes me feel as unhealthy and lousy as drinking, so fuck it.”

Which is stupid, I know, but the lizard brain is stupid. That’s why lizards aren’t allowed to drive.

Are you capable of “soloing” sobriety and not letting other aspects of living well fall off the table? Or are you pairing sobriety with other life habits that help reinforce an overall positive change? Whatever approach works for you is great, but make sure it’s really working for you — and sometimes, trading down on your devils is good enough to start with.