It's time...

Well, it's weigh in day.
Today
3 hours and 24 minutes from now, I'll be standing on a scale in front of my congregation.
I've lost a lot of weight, but I'm still not looking forward to weighing in, in front of people. Even if I make it below 250 - that's a lot of weight loss, but I will still weigh 250 which is more than I need to weigh. I don't need to be publicly reminded of that... But, for my discomfort; if I make it - we should raise a little bit under $18,000 for Jubilee United Church.
$18,000 for the programmes that I believe in...
$18,000 for intergenerational activity (where else do 14 year olds and 40 year olds, not related, get to work, play and share together?)
$18,000 for exploring and talking about spirituality, God and being part of the arc of the universe that bends toward justice...
$18,000 for modeling not just tolerance, but engagement with ideas and politics across a broad spectrum.
$18,000 for making music with kids, walking labyrinths with all ages, clothing the naked, housing the homeless, feeding the hungry and welcoming the stranger.... not always perfectly but sincerely and hopefully.

Okay... enough preaching.

This past week has been tough.
I was two days on the road to Ottawa to lead a workshop. Everyone knows that you never eat properly on the road. It's a 4 hour drive each way, with each mile marked by red licorice or maltesers (sometimes I'll mix it up with gummi bears and chips) and as I am against bottled water, but need something to drink, I will consume a couple bottles of Coke. You don't have to be Kreskin to see where this is going...(although you do have to be old to appreciate that reference)
Also, while in Ottawa, I was looking forward to dinner with friends. Friends that I haven't seen in years. Friends that know good food and I was hoping would be willing to share that knowledge with me. (in truth, I would have enjoyed a cold pizza with them, as long as we could talk... they are both fascinating individuals)
Upon my return from Ottawa, I was scheduled to attend a Wine-Makers dinner. Wine tasting followed by 5 courses prepared by a Master Chef and accompanied by the fermented fruit of the Wine Maker's labours.

Not a good week in which to lose weight...

I went into the week determined not to be turned into foie gras (if you don't know the process, you're probably happier... let it go).

I drove to Ottawa with glass bottles of Sparkling Water and two bags of rice crackers (bbq and cracked pepper). Each bag represented 900 calories. They got me there and back, with about half a bag to spare. I didn't get bored... although drinking 3 liters of bubbly water did necessitate a stop on the way (unheard of on previous trips)
Fast food at the workshop was mitigated by the presence of salad at Wendys (bless her little red head).
Dinner with friends?? Well, we started talking over wine and cheese... (not good); we then went to a fantastic restaurant in Ottawa (Beckta)... and I was forced to make my way through amuse bouche, gnudi, duck breast, some truffles and appropriate wines. (not good, not good at all... which is to say - really good, really, really good... and who cares about a weigh in?!)

Upon my return to Toronto... I had to wrestle with the twin demons of Norman Hardie (brilliant wine maker) and Didier Leroy (French chef without peer). I did declare "Get thee behind me, Satan..." but the servers kept bringing the wine and food forward, rendering the relative positions of Didier and Norman, meaningless. Chardonnay, Melon de Bourgogne, Pinot Gris, Pinot Noir, more Pinot Noir, Cabernet Franc...Oysters, Artic Char, Quail, Fillet of Beef, Cheese.. I'm beginning to think to heck with it, I'll give the church $18,000 myself!

So, you can perhaps see my trepidation when it comes to this morning.
Two major indulgences and a road trip in the same week...

In Ottawa, at about 6:30 pm, just as I was hitting the road for home, I stopped in front of a Tommy Hilfiger store. I've been wearing the same two pairs of jeans since I started this campaign. And they are getting really baggy... my belt cinched all the way in doesn't keep my pants up... and as I have no future as a teen hip-hop dancer, I don't really want my pants half way down my thighs (or wherever people where them now)... so I went in to buy some jeans. It did not escape me that I was only willing to do this 400 kms away from home.
I hate trying on pants.
It makes me very insecure... in that change room the illusion that I am Cary Grant is replaced by the reality that I am Drew Cary...and I don't like it.
But, 400 kms away, maybe nobody will notice (we can talk about my narcissism later...)
I tried on 4 pairs on pants.
One pair was 2 inches smaller around the waist that my usual...
Two pairs were 4 inches...
One pair was 5..

I left the store with 2 pairs of pants - 5 inches less than my usual. (I went back and found another pair... I mean, who can live with one pair of jeans?)
That was cool.

I'm hoping that today feels that good...

We'll see