My husband’s family has a story that they repeatedly tell about when a member of the family was humiliated for licking his ice cream wrapper. He was young and his Dad was strict. Upon seeing his son licking his ice cream wrapper, the father told the young lad, “If you want to eat like a dog, you can eat with the dog.” He actually made the boy take the wrapper outside, put it on the ground and with his hands behind his back he had to lick the wrapper. The dog joined in. The five other siblings all imprinted the image deep into their memory banks for future humiliation. That is how it is with families. Once is not punishment enough.
I was reminded of this story the other day, when I could not resist the temptation to lick my JC plate. It wasn’t that the food was all that good. It was just that I was not satisfied. Not starving, but not satiated. YaYa and Tom caught me in the act. And the dog was at my feet with his tail wagging away.
Every morning, I strip down after the first void of the day and hop onto the scale. The scale is only accurate to the 1/2 pound and I see it blink between two numbers. It settles on the higher and I try again just to be sure. No still the same number as yesterday. I must not complain. I have lost weight, but only to the point that I have done on my own. To make it all worth it, I want more. Please scale, show me the lower numbers soon so that I don’t end up eating with the dog. I don’t want future generations having that story to pass on.
As for my run. Today the schedule dictated 5 miles, so Mark and I ran 5 miles. As we came up the final stretch of dirt the GPS read 4.97. I yelled, “keeping on running. We aren’t there yet.” No a hundredth short. Hal says “Five Miles” and 5 miles it is.