After spending a hot summer weekend with oodles of friends, old and new, I headed to the gym this morning. The final part of my routine on Mondays is to step on the scale in the locker room. It’s one of those great standard issue antiques, with the sliding weights on the top. Well, I am quite pleased to announce that for the fourth consecutive Monday, I’ve weighed under 200 lbs.
The first time this happened I was astonished. I was alone in the locker room and was frankly disappointed that I didn’t have a witness. I don’t think I’ve weighed under 200 lbs since I was 16 (which makes me realize what a sad sack of shit I was in high school). Clicking that block over from 200 to 150 was momentous. Sure, I had to spin the tiny one all the way to the opposite end of the balance, but hey–under 200 is under 200.
So, it wasn’t a drastic difference (today’s 197 has been the lowest yet), and being 6’1″, it’s not like weighing 200-and-change marked me as some kind of physical anomaly. The cloud within the silver lining, however, was realizing that even in the 190s, there’s still work to be done. Sure, I may have looked fucking European compared to the Binghamtonians, but that’s not gonna cut it in my world. The battle continues each morning most mornings, and will include next month’s Hoboken 5K. As always, you’ll be duly notified of any accomplishments or mishaps.
So, in recognition of this physiological benchmark, I present to you a forthright anthem celebrating one’s own vanity, ego, physical appearance, and inflated sense of self-worth. In short, a top contender for my own personal theme song.