A Simple Universal Rule

Mmm, Hendrick's martini. Not shown - two garlic stuffed olives that I'd already eaten. YUM.

Yesterday I headed to Simcoe to celebrate my dad’s 70^th birthday. As expected, it was a night filled with excellent food, wine, scotch, and laughter. It was also a rather late night, and to be perfectly honest I’m amazed that I wasn’t hungover today. I mean, I felt pretty happy after my first glass of wine¹, and that was well before I had even considered the requisite birthday martinis and birthday scotch.

Okay – maybe birthday martinis and scotch weren’t required, but who am I to argue when our waitress basically insists that I order one?²

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Before I made my way to Simcoe for the festivities, I decided that I’d wander over to the Stone Road Mall on a quest to find something new to wear. After picking up some Starbucks – also known as shopping fuel – I headed to Le Chateau. There I found myself a nice new shirt and vest to go with the jeans I was wearing. As has been the case over the past year or two, whenever I’ve purchased new clothes I’ve always started off by selecting something about 2 sizes too large. Yesterday was no exception. Long story short, I finally found myself trying on the slim-fit extra small stuff³. And despite the initial sizing issue, I was quite happy with the result. You know when you buy something and just feel awesome in it – I was that guy yesterday.

When we finally arrived in Simcoe, the first thing my mom said to me was Please stop losing weight⁴. Whenever I hear this I have to remind whomever is saying it that I’m not trying to lose weight – because I’m not – and that I’m healthy – because I am. Furthermore, I was confident that I hadn’t lost any weight.

I insisted Mom, I haven’t lost any weight.

You have. I can see it in your face. You’re so thin.

In the limo on the way to dinner.

It probably didn’t help that the new clothes I bought for the occasion were extra small and form fitted.

Regardless, I insisted that I hadn’t lost weight. And I still felt like a million bucks in my new clothes.

This immediately led to a challenge: the next I was at my parents’ house I had to get on the scales. My mom even wanted to be present to make sure I didn’t lie to her about my weight. I laughed and agreed – knowing deep down that I had this challenge wrapped up. In fact, in my mind it wasn’t even a challenge. Although, I did tell her there was no need for her to be present for the reading because why would I lie about my weight?

Sooooo, flash forward to this the morning-after-the-night-before. Aidan and I had crashed at our parents’ place last night. After waking up, I walked to the bathroom to splash some water on my face. The first thing I saw was the scale. I smirked to myself. Giddily I turned it on (it’s one of those fancy-pants electronic scales) knowing full well it was going to say that I was 147 or higher. I jumped on.

139.2

What the what?

I knew this had to be a mistake. I went downstairs to the other bathroom which has one of the non-electronic scales.

135.

WHAT THE WHAT?

I was gobsmacked.

The view from our table. Not too shabby Port Dover. Not too shabby at all.

Being the statistical type of person I am, I took the average of these two weights and very quickly realized that I’d somehow managed to lose 10 pounds since Christmas. Crikey! I’m not sure what upset me more – that I had lost weight, or that my mom was right. Dammit. Moms are always right. How could I have forgotten that simple universal rule?

I guess I can’t be terribly surprised that I’ve lost weight given all of the marathon training I’ve been doing. And I guess the weight loss could explain why some of my runs have seemed a bit more sluggish than normal, and why I’m the walking dead after my long runs. But I feel healthy, so I’m not really worried about it.

However, the weight loss does suggest that I might not be fueling properly – something I have mentioned previously in other posts – so I’m going to have to redouble my efforts on this front. I mean, I still have another half marathon and a 10 miler to run this month, and 2 marathons scheduled for next month. Fueling could mean the difference between finishing, and finishing but feeling like a bag of smashed-ass. I’d much rather finish strong.

In light of all of this, I’m going to go make myself a deep-fried gravy, butter, and bacon sandwich with a side order of bacon-crusted bacon-wrapped back bacon⁵. That should make up for some of the Calories I’m missing.

And of course mom – if you are reading this – date squares would really help with this weight loss thing. Just sayin’.

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¹ Likely a combination of being a light-weight, and also having just run a half marathon.

² Clearly the phrase insists that I order one means that she enquired if I would like a drink. In my defence, I was already 1 glass of wine drunk, so my logic and decision-making abilities were highly suspect. Regardless, the martinis and scotch were delicious, and I probably should be suffering for my choices today.

³ Extra small. Crazy. Just over 2 years ago I’d have been trying on the large clothes. It’s amazing the difference a little hernia and some running can make.

⁴ She has been very concerned since day 1 of the hernia because, well, she’s my mom and that’s what mom’s do. Also, I did lose a lot of weight in a not-so-healthy way; her concern was clearly justified.

⁵ Okay, I won’t lie. A side order of bacon-crusted bacon-wrapped back bacon is making me drool just a little.

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Sydney, showing me one of her videos.

Chatting with my niece.

In the limo on the way to dinner.

The view from our table. Not too shabby Port Dover. Not too shabby at all.

Reviewing the menu.

Mom, enjoying a Singapore Sling.

And the laughter continues.

Story time.

So. Freaking. Tasty.

As the night went on, my picture taking skills diminished.

Shannon, Sandy, and Bernie – later in the eve.

Drinks upstairs. Because what we needed was clearly more drinks.

Bernie, clearly enjoying himself.

Me and my sister-in-laws

I have no idea what’s going on here.

Mmm, Hendrick’s martini. Not shown – two garlic stuffed olives that I’d already eaten. YUM.

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