I preached this morning (see below). It went well. I'm relaxing more and more, really engaging with folks, and I'm so enjoying the process of writing and delivering the sermons. Old dogs can learn new tricks.
A little group of us have joined what my blogpal Cheesehead affectionately calls "Fat Club." It is, of course, that place which has meetings rather akin to AA ("Hello, my name is Mibi and I've lost 2 pounds this week.") with the program that requires you to count points. The upside is that there is no food that is truly illegal, but the yummies carry more points, so if you play by having something like a slice of bittersweet chocolate torte, you pay by not having much points for anything except a whole lotta salad with a little tuna on top. All so one is not overly embarrassed by the number on the scale each Saturday morning. I think I will not weigh myself between Fat Club visits. It will feel less like a diet if I don't obsess about the scale each morning. Just eat right, do the exercise, and let the chips (or the hips) fall where they may.
The purpose of this, of course, is to get my weight back down to where I can fit into my business suits by this time next year, when I'll have to be interviewing for jobs. Given my up-and-down weight over the past thirty years, trying every diet under the sun, and my various and sundry medical issues, I don't know if this will be doable. But I'm darned well gonna try.