I guess every family has their folklore and stories that have been passed down. One of the favorites in my late wife’s family involved my father in law. In his younger years, he was an officer in the Civil Air Patrol and routinely flew a little single engine Piper Cub. On one such flight, he had as a passenger his brother in law who, if I remember correctly, was not exactly a seasoned flyer. However, as they circled over a lake not far from where they lived and my father in law pointed out the local landmarks, the engine went into a stall. Suddenly, they no longer had power. Jim, the passenger immediately grasped the urgency of the situation and, as his fear grew, said “Alan, what the hell just happened” to which my father in law purportedly casually replied “Damned if I know Jim”. Obviously, he was able to restart the engine and they returned safely. But his casual response was a story told over and over.
I bring this up only to illustrate how we are often called upon to deal with a stall of some nature or another. Perhaps not quite as critical as the aforementioned, but a stall non the less. I’m afraid I am experiencing one now. Fortunately, mine is not critical, but just frustrating. You see, I have stopped losing weight. Just like that. No change of my self imposed Keto diet. No cheating. Nothing. Nada. One day I’m bopping along shedding pounds like Facebook friends, and suddenly, boom, two weeks go by and I am still the same weight, day after day. But if I can be permitted to relate my situation to that of my father in law, I have also gained two pounds of altitude. Bummer.
But, it happens it seems. Not just to me. I have read comments from other wayfarers on the bumpy road to a healthier self that are or have experienced the same thing, and we are not amused. Mentally, we are skinny. So, is it too much to ask for just a little cooperation from our body? Would it hurt it to step up the fat burning thing just a little? I mean, I know I am doing the right things and eating the right foods. I do feel good and I’m not hungry. So, in retrospect, if I don’t lose another pound, I know my A1C is in a lot better shape then it was, and I’m never going back to where I was when I started this insanity. I know all that. And it doesn’t make any difference. I am still 10 pounds from where I want to be. I have a pair of pants that is one size to small that just hangs in my closet, taunting me. That doesn’t help.
Oh well. I guess with any luck at all, one morning I will get up and step on the scales, with both feet, and will have magically dropped a pound, at which time I will high five myself in the mirror and say something akin to “damn, you’re good”. So, until that time, I will continue to live by my motto “Carpe Caulis Flos” which is Latin that loosely translates to Seize the Cauliflower, or something like that.