Hunting for Wabbits

I’m pleased to report that I’ve lost about 26 pounds.  I’d be more pleased to  report that I’d lost more than that, but that would be a lie and that’s not what  I’m all about.  My endeavors at the gym and in my nutrition have not been  about strict adherence to some aggressive weight loss strategy.  It’s been  about making myself healthier and finding some sort of balanced lifestyle that I can be happy with and that I can stick with long term.  With that in mind, 26 pounds is nothing to scoff at and it’s just the beginning.

I’ve noticed, over time, an interesting phenomenon about weight loss.  Well anyway, it’s interesting to me.  It’s true that the waste of most of my pants is quite a bit looser than it used to be and in some cases, the seat of my pants is a bit droopy but by far the most interesting thing, in my mind, has been that my pants are getting longer.  I realize, of course, this is a combination of the  pants slipping lower on my waste and my patooty not being as big as it was,  but it’s still interesting to me that simply by loosing a little weight, I now have to contend with the hems dragging on the floor and catching under the heals  of my shoes as well as with the legs piling up on top of my shoes in a bit of an  unintentional pants on the ground style.

Today I am wearing a pair of corduroy pants and with every step I take the piled up fabric at my ankles brushes together making a woosh, woosh, woosh sound.  With every step I take, woosh.  Going to get coffee from the back room?  Woosh, woosh, woosh.  Going to the bathroom?  Woosh, woosh,  woosh.  Fax machine?  Copy machine?  Woosh, woosh, woosh.

I guess I won’t be sneaking up on anyone today…