What Hurricane? It’s Just Drizzling…

So, we’ve survived Harvey’s landfall, not that we were in any immediate danger of contending with hurricane-force winds and storm surge, but we survived nonetheless. Aasim and I built a sheet and blanket fort in the middle of our living room so we could watch Netflix and eat snacks while the wind and rain brought society to ruination around us. Half a box of Cheez-Its, two bottles of wine, and a poorly-advised Taco Bell run later, I think our living room camp out has been a wild success. I took more than I originally planned to get my shit together today and write because I was under said fort, wrapped in a blankie watching The Defenders, Anthony Bourddain’s Parts Unknown, and Rogue One all day.
The forecast calls for Austin to get about 8 million inches of rain until next weekend — Labor Day — and I start my new job on Monday. Thankfully, there’s another 24 hours left in our Harvey Hold Out Weekend, so I’m going to spend my time making poor diet choices and boobing out in front of America’s favorite streaming service at least until tomorrow. (Omfg, Game of Thrones finale tomorrow!!). The hysteria surrounding this hurricane seemed, at least to me, to be delayed and so sudden. At first Harvey was a whisper on Facebook, and I remember reading in the Farmer’s Almanac online that we should “expect a tropical storm in late summer”. By Thursday evening, everyone on the East Coast suddenly remembered I lived in Texas and asked if I had enough eggs and milk. (Side note, why those items? Coupled with bread, they’re like the most perishable storm provisions you could have. Power’s out, thank God we have eggs!). When I ran to the grocery store yesterday to pick up a few cans of beans I didn’t need, it was like someone lit the place on fire and management gave everyone fifteen minutes to steal whatever they wanted. I was so flustered by the (still polite) hysteria that I just took my eggs and veggies and left.
In spite of this, I’m enjoying feeling like a teenager, or like I did in college when my roommates and I would play Smash Brothers until 3:00 am or make drinking games out of anything. Let the rain fall, and maybe make a road or two impassable, I’ll watch The Office and Parks and Rec. This all makes me feel like I’m avoiding something, and I suddenly feel tired just having spent the last fifteen seconds contemplating what it may be. (That of course could be as a result of the fact that the only real food I’ve eaten since yesterday were the scrambled eggs we made for breakfast to go with the Spam we snagged…great choices, man!). We at least did the dishes, ran and emptied the dishwasher, folded some laundry and are currently running another load. So everything hasn’t gone to shit, even though it may sound like it has. I’d love to say that there’s a point swirling around in what I’m writing today, but much like my day, not much is going on inside my head. This is really because of the food man…oh, the food!
Your body’s an engine, and if you put poor fuel in it, it doesn’t run well. Celery and kale make the gears grind smoothly, while Cheez-Its and wine make everything bang against itself. There’s still motion, but it’s not any good, or sustainable. “You’re allowed to treat yourself,” people would say, but if you’ve read my post on how routines and lists are the only way I can function, you’d know that “treats” for me are code words for “surprises to your routine”. I’ll stop complaining about why I shouldn’t eat like crap, especially since I only excitedly agreed to eat like a 5-year-old in the hopes that the hurricane was a decent enough excuse. All the same though, if ever there was a chance I would backslide into a diet of dead animals and dairy products, this feeling right now would be enough to dissuade me. Since the beginning of the summer I’ve lost 20 pounds. Infinitely better diet, consistent exercise, and gallons of water daily have helped me get to this point. No one ever wants to admit that they at one point weighed 254 pounds, but I did, not so long ago. It was seeing that number that scared the ever-loving shit out of me.
I looked at Aasim who was also feeling down about his weight and stamina and said, “I’m tired of being fat and miserable”. Teamwork and effort over the last eight weeks brings us to where we are (eating junk food under a sheet fort in the living room during a monsoon). The endeavors we’re taking aren’t “diets”, they’re not for when we hit a specific goal. They’re our lifetime choices and lifestyle changes. I don’t want to wake up when I’m 40 and have a doctor tell me that if I don’t change my diet and exercise routine, I’ll die. I want to redirect the course of my health so that when I’m 40 the doctor tells me I’m not even halfway through my life. Is that vanity? I’d say no, it’s just me hoping for a better life over a better meal — not that eating healthily has to be unappetizing, I plan on sharing recipes soon. While I’ve lost these 20 pounds, I’m nowhere near satisfied, if anything I’m determined to keep going until I reach a level where my body is no longer labeled as a health risk to myself. And so, while Harvey churns in place over Texas and drops a ton of water on us, I’ll keep running in place on the treadmill, watching as fat and calories melt off of me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to drink a liter of water and eat some Romaine lettuce, since I just spent the last several hundred words talking about how much Cheez-Its are bad for me.
