A New Life

It's 5:45 a.m. The sun is peeking over the roofs of the townhouses in Old Town. The birds are making a racket. I'm up and waiting for an incoming phone call from the Middle East, and feeling a bit woozy. I've just read an article in the Washington Post that says most diets are temporary fixes that will help you shed 15 pounds but fail to keep it off. If the article is correct, the 15 pounds I've recently shed should return gradually within five years.
I've had this happen once before, and it had nothing to do with the diet aned everything to do with me. I went off the diet when I achieved my targeted weight. This time, I am making the diet part of my permanent lifestyle. I do not want to get fat again. I feel too good at a lower weight and will feel even better when I drop from 180 to 170, where the charts say a 5-foot, 9-inch man should be.
I have more energy. My bad knes feel much better with less weight to carry. My stomach, which looked like a sack, is flattening. My face has become sculpted. I look much better on TV.
I must confess that it was TV that spurred me on. I appeared on a local show to discuss some event of the day. I saw the clip. It was startling. There is something much more frank about a video image of ones self than the image in the mirror. For some reason, you are hyper-sensitive to every personal flaw when you view the video. Perhaps its because you realize that it has been seen by thousands of others and that it will define you in their eyes. You notice the quirks you have when speaking, the foolish way that you smile, the slouch of your back, the jowls on your jawline. TV was my inspiration for dieting. I would advise you all to get out the old video camera or borrow a friends and tape yourself playing pundit, discussing the days great issue--terrorist physicians in London; the pardon of Scooter Libby as opposed to the border agents who shot a fleeing Mexican in the buttocks; middle-class angst. I suspect that a video of myself taking a stroll, shot from the rear, also would be disturbing. One of my favorite pasttimes is to analyse the silly walks of the tourists who frequent our city.
What a silly herd the tourists are, attired for a beach town, not the Capital City. Granted, the weather here can be sultry, the humity turning your cloths into sweaty rags; but there should be some sense of decorum, some exhibit of personal pride. Older men and women in shorts are hardly a treat for the eyes. And ladies, please cover your garrish tatoos. The children in their tees and flip flops look like survivors of a ship wreck. The Capital never will be mistaken for a fashion center, that's for certain.
Went for a bike ride last night and some speeding clown came flying around a hairpin in my lane, braked, skidded into me like a soccer player taling the legs out from under an opponent--the so-called tackle. My front tire went up over his rear tire, sending me airborn. I caught onto a fence rail on the way down, which saved me. My chain flew off, but otherwise the bike was undamaged. The other rider had no identification and looked ready to flee when I produced my cell and threateened to call the cops. He fixed my bike, apologized profusely and politely endured my lecture about consideration for ones fellow man. As we were dusting ourselves off, trying to determine if either one of us had suffered a serious injury, some stubble-faced gray head came tearing around the same hair-pin turn and nearly coliided with us. Instead of stopping to offer assistance, he cursed us for being in his way. Pumped with adreniline, I shouted a nasty insult at the man (that I later regretted--I felt ashamed ) and would have charged into him with my fists if he had stopped to defend his "honor." Thank God he kept going. I parted amicably with the man who crashed into me. I must find a section of the bike trail free from the speed freaks. I don't believe there is such a place in this city of self-absorbed, career-climbing, A-type personalites! I must retain a cooler head next time this happens and and a more compassionate "first response." Our entire being must constantly be under review and tweaked to make us better persons. We must weigh our consciences each day, not just our physical mass. Today, I will strive to be a better person.