The Control Spiral

Ohhhhkay - so haven't posted in about a week. Madness - had to shift the office around, putting the exercise bike out of commission, then went to a longish conference, during which it was impossible to do much in the way of exercise. There are two things to say about this, really - just before leaving for the conferences, I got into my size 36 Chinos again, briefly and with a degree of pain, but still...

While I was away though, I had the nasty sensation of feeling like I couldn't escape from my own flesh - I'd catch bits of myself out of what exists of my peripheral vision, catch my reflection in shiny objects and see the wrongness of its shape, the bulging and inflation of what I think of as me. I haven't weighed in a week, but I'm not looking forward to doing so tomorrow. Yesterday d reconnected the bike and I did an hour on it, just because it was there. Today, nope - we did spend a couple of hours building a big chunk of new desk in the office, and that feels almost as universally painful as an hour on the bike, despite probably using far less actual calories. And I'm walking with Ma in the morning. But I still have the nasty sensation that far from being close to the borders of 18, the break in the exercise routine and the limiting of my capacity to be particularly good will see me back at 19, if not significantly over it.

And do, from this vantage point, whatever it is in the morning, we begin again to establish the spiral of control. The routine of work, the discipline of culinary self-control. All of it comes sharply into focus with the news from the Nazi Scaled in significantly less than twelve hours from now.