Tuesday, January 20, 2015

The Yin & Yang of the Belt

You would think mornings like this, when I have to take in another notch on the belt that's keeping my pants from falling down around my ankles, would be a time for celebration,

but anymore that celebration is tempered by experience. Painful experience that's taught me that no matter how much I resist, no matter how stubbornly I try to hang onto that hard-gained notch at the expense of restricted breathing and an angry red welt by the end of the day, I'm going to have to give it up again at some point in the next couple months. I'm going to have to deal with the disappointment of settling back into to my normal, for-God's-sake-stay-off-the-scale!, notch again.

The laws of physics dictate that the Universe demands balance in all things; that for every Yin there is a Yang. And through repeated lessons I've learned that for every notch taken up, every Yin gained, Yang (That bastard!) will soon demand equilibrium and my transverse girth will eventually return to it's natural state.

I'm especially cautious this time since we've just been through over a month of holidays, holiday food binging and cold, wet, grey-skied weather (Definitely not normal around here!) that has put a crimp in the camping, hiking and other fat burning activities. Which leaves me wondering if having to take up that notch this morning has more to do with increased downward force from a  dun-loping belly combined with old man flat-ass and little to do with loosing any actual ballast.

So any celebrations are currently on hold. . .


  1. Ah...those were the days!

    After my thyroid gave out around age 40 it seemed I was doomed. Eventually I switched to suspenders. And preferring to use an accesory as a means of expression, I surmise they add an additionalsomething (I really don't know how those people, uh, think?) that inspires snide remarks. But they're alot more comfortable.

    1. Man! you are digging up some old posts here!

      I experienced a similar round of snideness and shunning when I refused to wear neckties anymore as soon as I discovered the direct - phallic - fashion link between them and the old cod-pieces.

      The world has enough my-dick-is-bigger-than-yours and dicks-are-better-than-slits issues without me participating in perpetuating that culture.

      Oh, yeah, and not wearing ties has the added bonus of being more comfortable!