Still out there, somewhere east of Easter
Eggs and bacon: A day's work for a chicken, a life's work for a pig. Unknown
About a month ago, you may recall I was a tad apoplectic about my weight loss. Or specifically, the lack, thereof. Well today, I met our Nutritionist Maker with current printout updates to my earlier perplexing concerns.
All you need to know, is the BAI machine doesn't lie. This is short for a Bioelectric Impedance Analysis (that's Impedance dahling, not Impotence.) The BIA machine provides a breakdown of your weight into fluid weight, fat weight and muscle tissue weight (muscles, bones and organs.)
The small machine passes a weak electrical current through your body from electrodes on the bottom of the scale's platform. Be- cause muscle conducts electricity and fat acts as an insulator, the electrical impedance measures our total body water, which then calculates our muscle and fat mass. Like I said, you can't fake it.
The short takeaway: Everything seems to be slowly going in the right direction, underscore slowly. Muscle tissue weight is down a bit from a month ago. So is the fluid weight. This is all good, apparently. On the upside, if that's the right way to describe it, my fat weight is down to the equivalency of perhaps a small Sunday roast, or three pounds of butter. Hoa, Oleo Boy! Fat, all the fat, and nothing but fat, so help me...
Lately, I'm becoming more of a simple-stupid kind of guy. This isn't complex at all. The next time you're trolling past the dairy section at your supermarket, look to where the pounds of butter are neatly stacked. Then visualize the immenseness of three of those little suckers side-by-side, up on the shelf staring back at you, rather than me. Only then, are you allowed to smugly mosey past those Haagen-Daz sirens, to the adjoining frozen gelato bin.
On this weighty matter, there's only so much lipstick you can put on a pig.
Our rehab nutritionist is as happy as a clutch of clams at high tide. So are the stethoscope gang on the floor. I'm trying to be giddy free and keep this still in perspective. When you BMI chart these improvements on paper, all I've done is quietly pack my bags in a southward direction away from the lower end of the Obese zone, and moved next door to the high end of the Overweight column. Big whoop. Big hat, no cattle, as they say out West. Next stop though, is the Acceptable column!
To a few, this is a subject, guaranteed to slow your heart and thicken your blood. Yet, if management is happy, and the caregiver is beaming, then I'm happy for all the stakeholders.
It's only a start. My revised New Year's goal was to modestly jettison ten little pounds of 'butter' by Easter. Three down, seven to go. But who's counting. Much.
Does anyone know if Easter come early or late this year?
About a month ago, you may recall I was a tad apoplectic about my weight loss. Or specifically, the lack, thereof. Well today, I met our Nutritionist Maker with current printout updates to my earlier perplexing concerns.
All you need to know, is the BAI machine doesn't lie. This is short for a Bioelectric Impedance Analysis (that's Impedance dahling, not Impotence.) The BIA machine provides a breakdown of your weight into fluid weight, fat weight and muscle tissue weight (muscles, bones and organs.)
The small machine passes a weak electrical current through your body from electrodes on the bottom of the scale's platform. Be- cause muscle conducts electricity and fat acts as an insulator, the electrical impedance measures our total body water, which then calculates our muscle and fat mass. Like I said, you can't fake it.
The short takeaway: Everything seems to be slowly going in the right direction, underscore slowly. Muscle tissue weight is down a bit from a month ago. So is the fluid weight. This is all good, apparently. On the upside, if that's the right way to describe it, my fat weight is down to the equivalency of perhaps a small Sunday roast, or three pounds of butter. Hoa, Oleo Boy! Fat, all the fat, and nothing but fat, so help me...
Lately, I'm becoming more of a simple-stupid kind of guy. This isn't complex at all. The next time you're trolling past the dairy section at your supermarket, look to where the pounds of butter are neatly stacked. Then visualize the immenseness of three of those little suckers side-by-side, up on the shelf staring back at you, rather than me. Only then, are you allowed to smugly mosey past those Haagen-Daz sirens, to the adjoining frozen gelato bin.
On this weighty matter, there's only so much lipstick you can put on a pig.
Our rehab nutritionist is as happy as a clutch of clams at high tide. So are the stethoscope gang on the floor. I'm trying to be giddy free and keep this still in perspective. When you BMI chart these improvements on paper, all I've done is quietly pack my bags in a southward direction away from the lower end of the Obese zone, and moved next door to the high end of the Overweight column. Big whoop. Big hat, no cattle, as they say out West. Next stop though, is the Acceptable column!
To a few, this is a subject, guaranteed to slow your heart and thicken your blood. Yet, if management is happy, and the caregiver is beaming, then I'm happy for all the stakeholders.
It's only a start. My revised New Year's goal was to modestly jettison ten little pounds of 'butter' by Easter. Three down, seven to go. But who's counting. Much.
Does anyone know if Easter come early or late this year?
posted by leisurelan at 11:32 PM
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