One Meal A Day

4.5 months ago I was just fine.

But then, at the Spring Solstice, a 61.5 year old blood tube decided it’s inadequate middle layer had performed as long as it could: it blew, the tube blew, part of my brain was flooded and I lost (only) balance. https://savedbydesign.wordpress.com/2017/04/11/thrombus/

It was back in 10 days.

But in the 100 hours in Yale New Haven Hospital it was clear that my blood pressure was too high, and that I had gained about 5 pounds a year for a bunch of years since I had lost 1/3 of myself 10 years ago; https://savedbydesign.wordpress.com/2010/09/14/“why-am-i-soft-in-the-middle-now-why-am-i-soft-in-the-middle-when-the-rest-of-my-life-is-so-hard”-–-paul-simon/ putting about 2/5 of the 1/3 I had lost back. Not good.

Entitlement is the evil twin of success. I had controlled what controlled me: fat. So with that “victory” I grazed for 9 years. I knew there was no “win” – that there is only struggle. But I limited that struggle to relentless working out, and not eating crap. But I ate too much not crap. Through the fat creep I worked out, at least an hour a day, at least 5 days a week. So I was fat and fit.

But that blood pipe was not.

The larding up danced with the now age-increased blood pressure to blow this tube out. The hyper vigilance of Yale Hospital’s Chief of Neurology and her flock of physicians determined that I had no history of, and no existing, and no future of, veinious malfornation – after lots of hours viewing by many people of many (many) tests. However the first test of my weight was not unexpected but it did set a directive. Not from my doctors: From me. To me.

I was determined that amid the absence of balance that I would get that lard off me, but unlike a decade ago, I was working out more, not less. https://savedbydesign.wordpress.com/2011/12/14/a-crazy-way-that-worked/ A decade ago, my radical methodology curtailed my available energy. I could not accept that today – my twin enemy to my lard lard was my blood pressure. I wanted to reduce that elevated pressure, and kicking it every day in the barn helped: recumbent, bow flex, and until I broke it, the elliptical. Instead of at least an hour it was an hour and a half, instead of 5 or 6 days it was 6 or 7 days a week. I have missed 6 days of exercise in 14 weeks, all due to business.

But that extra work out just meant a pound or 2 a month off if I ate as before. Defendable, but not enough.

There were evils in my eating. I binged Triscuits. I often had calorie laced skim milk and juice. Sometimes butter. And I had desert. Those went. But that reduction in scope, maybe, nailed another pound a month and I needed to lose scores of pounds. Scores of months would not cut it.

Since I dropped the 1/3 a decade ago, I yet grazed and lunched at a minimal level. The mouth toss here, the cookie for lunch (total). (I never ate breakfast). So that ended. I have had perhaps 10 lunches in those 14 weeks since the event: all due to social necessity.

And, voila: the One Meal A Day routine. But more than just eating once a day: a 23 hour fast every day. Food freeze out. Sacrifice. But not nuts.

My diagnosis saw no issue with drinking, so once or thrice a week I drank around 500 calories of booze, but I lessened salt without urging, and ate more vegetables upon another doctor’s urging (diuretic impact). Although it was fine, coffee went away: I needed no monkeys riding my back.

In the isolated daily meal I was careful: not junk (less or no: fried, sugar, empty carbs, butter) – but it was not measured, calculated, obsessed over – the meal was enjoyed.

If I had one full real meal it could barely reach 2,000 calories and often less without desert or fluids with calories. If I was burning 500 calories a day, that meant a net 1,500 calories were eaten a day, max. This regime kills over 1,000 net calories a day from the 2,500 daily calories I need to maintain my weight, fat or less fat. This meant losing over 2 pounds a week, and, duh, I am down over 30 pounds in 14 weeks, and will kill 20 more.

An interesting consequence that my heart rate was 60-70 beats per minute as tested a jillion times in the hospital. Now it’s around 55 beats per minute, often lower…

Did the added work and less food reduce pressure? Sure: over 3 months crushing it, I went from 150-160 to 130-140 in the early AM – normal, but not normal when the up fluctuation during the rest of the day sent it over 160 without med’s. I learned that a normal morning pressure is inoperative once your old man upside pressure is revealed later in the day.

So I failed.

So I take med’s.

As I write this I do a one week a year special edition: vacation.

Eating is a joy, and part of my 7 days off involves diving into great grub 3 times a day. But I try amplify to work out to over 1,500 calories a day, tripling my workout schedule, because, well, I eat like a (hungry) pig. It has worked in the past: no gain, but this year, I am a little more careful. Let’s see if this works.

Like everything else.

I guess I am a little more careful for the rest of what life is left…