Sudden Impact

OK, the run-of-the-mill Tuesday stuff is as follows. Blood was a rather low 4.3 this morning, and the weigh-in reads:
16 stone 4 pounds. It wavered, couldn't make up it's mind this morning between 4 and 3.75, but settled on 4 finally, so there it is - a pound and a fart down on last week. Given the absence of serious walking and intermittent biking this week, not a bad result - two solid weeks now and I'll be hitting the 4.5 stone barrier, and then we'll be into the 15 stone zone. So, a very miniature woohoo for that.

Ran into an old pal of mine on my way down for lunch today. Her name's Brenda, she works just down the hall from me, and a kinder, funnier, more genuinely nice human being it'd be difficult to find. The thing is, while we only work down the corridor, we both work in  fairly 'head down, bum up' environments, so we don't actually meet that often (regular readers will remember my post from last week about the friends who should figure bigger in my life, only I'm a bit crap at plate-spinning our lives in sync). The upshot of which is that I'm not sure Brenda's actually seen me since this whole Disappearing malarkey began.

"Oh my God, Tone, you're looking great!" she said. My head grew three sizes in about half a second (which means it's probably just as well I forgot my 'I'm-not-bald-honest' hat today). She was amazed at the difference in the way I looked, and wanted to know the ins and outs of how I'd gone from Lardarse Boy to Not-Quite-So-Lardarse Boy, so we had a lovely catch-up chat, and I got to unexpectedly revel in the apparently noticeable difference that all this whining and bitching and pedalling and self-denial and more bitching, and more bitching, and more bitching has made. Of course, you lot don't really count for that, cos even though I'm happy if you just pop in and out, I'm here every day, so it seems like a narrative of inch-by-inch slices to me, every pound-and-a-fart barely noticeable in and of itself unless it hits a marker. So to get a perspective from someone who hasn't seen or followed the process, and so gets the impact like a frying-pan in the face, was particularly pleasing and unexpected today.

She said I was 'an inspiration' - which I've heard before on this journey. I never quite know how to react to that...sort of makes me want to adopt a serious face and put on a tie, to set a good example, but clearly, being essentially a comedy scruffbag, that'll never happen. I'm delighted if people think this experiment is inspiring in any way, cos I have to tell you, it pretty much sucks from the inside and the doing of it - except in moments where you get a slap in the face realisation, like I had with The Disappearing Coat a couple of weeks ago, or like today when someone who hasn't seen it happen suddenly gets the impact of it all, and leaves a smile on your lips that simply won't go away.

As it happened, I only bumped into Brenda today cos she'd just come back into the building after doing a lunchtime walk. She's decided to do a bit of Disappearing herself, after an encounter with a well-meaning but rather tactless friend made her decide to take her life in hand a bit. I've seen her do this a couple of times in different situations, seen her 'change her stars' as the expression used to be, so for her to call this modest, self-revolving palaver of mine 'inspiring' is actually rather humbling.

Tonight, it's more boxes, and biking, and ideally, finding the drugs box before I pack anything more into our bedroom. And probably doing it with a bit more of a Snow White song on my lips, and all cos I met Brenda, while heading down for lunch.