I used to remark that I felt old age creeping up on me; lately, though, it seems to be chasing me across an open field with a pitchfork.
One resolution I have made is to lose weight. My doctor thinks it's because I want to be more conscientious about taking care of myself; in reality, I just want to be able to fit into one of my suits in case I have to go to a wake or funeral or something (not my funeral or wake, I hasten to point out; my instructions are just to drag my earthly remains outside to the edge of the property and cover it with some brush. Plain old bib overalls ought to be sufficient to preserve my modesty).
Anyhow, I have been taking this business seriously for the last six weeks or so. I cut out all snacking, eliminated sugary drinks, eat sensibly, take at least two long walks a day and do exercises every day. So far, I have lost about 20 pounds. According to the Body Mass Index, if I lose another 30, I'll be merely "overweight" as opposed to "obese". So, "yay", I guess.
Seems to be having some good effects. I do have more energy, and my blood pressure has generally been in the normal range. It's a frustratingly slow process, however. Although I've lost some weight, my...configuration, I guess you'd call it...although noticeably improved, still does not enable me to get into any of my old suits.
At least my hats still fit.



