Facade

There have been some changes in the building I work in. The meeting rooms have been upgraded with LCD screens and "new" furniture (used, but surplused from places that are higher on the totem pole that we are). New storage areas have been created. The fitness centre has some new equipment. An LCD panel above the reception area announces the events of the day. The elevators have received a spiffy new coat of paint. There are new industrial-strength electronic air fresheners in all the bathrooms. Who knows what tomorrow has in store?

I look on all of this, however, with a large amount of cynicism. This building is old. What good is an industrial strength air freshener when the toilets don't flush properly? It covers up the smell of remaining waste products, but doesn't solve the underlying problem. Yes, the paint makes the elevators look nice, but doesn't solve the issue of missing floor indicators, open and close buttons that may or may not work, or the obviously original sign telling people how to use the emergency phone. And the upgrades? It might as well be a sixty-year-old woman wearing a Bratz T-shirt. Do we care about LCD panels when we have to wear long-johns to work just to stay warm, inside the building?

But if I had to be perfectly honest, probably the reason for my cynicism is more personal than the fact that I think they should be fixing the plumbing and heating before putting in gadgets.

This past Saturday marked week 52 of my weight goal tracking. Those who maybe have been following the tracking may have noticed that I haven't updated it in a good long while. There is a reason for that. There is nothing to report. My completely attainable goal of 30 pounds in 52 weeks... proved to be completely unattainable. Completely. I don't even need to weigh myself to tell you that. The good look I got of myself in the mirror on Sunday saves me the trouble. There has been no change in my overall mass in 52 weeks.

That's not to say there haven't been changes. Before nearly completely giving up on my gym, I was able to do 45 minutes on the elliptical trainer, and probably could have gone longer. Even when I was fencing, I could barely manage 10 minutes. Pilates, when I was in those classes, really made a difference on how my back felt. I wouldn't say the pain and tension went away completely, but I really felt like it eased a bit as the muscles moved and strengthened. After a year, I think I have a tiny bit more energy. Not a lot, but enough that I notice most days.

But no change in my weight is a hard one to come to grips with. It feels like the changes above are like the LCD panels, the air fresheners, and the new coat of paint. Facade changes. Surface changes. Not fixing the underlying problem. And with my still tenuous self-esteem, naturally I focus on the negative rather than the positive. Sorry, Mike.

There are new changes on the horizon for us. Once Christmas is behind us, Mike and I are planning to take out memberships at the leisure centre in St. Albert and work out together at least once a week. I am also going to try to avail myself of their pilates classes. I have taken courses in nutrition and am in contact with a nutritionist, so changes in the way I eat are taking and will take place. But I know that my sister is right; I need to accept that I am the way I am at this moment, and like it. Love it, in fact. But a year of efforts--some aborted, I will admit, but efforts nonetheless--with no discernible effect make that particularly difficult this week.

Especially when I see the paint every time I step in the elevator.