Setting the Bar at 68.5
This year, I tried something different for Lent. My dream weight has always been 68.5 kilos. It’s what my doctor says is about right, and my clothes fit well. Each morning, I weigh myself, squint and mutter unrepeatable words. Certainly, words that do not belong here in the cyber / community world. So, with the grace and opportunity of Lent, here we go.
The goal was that I should arrive on the scales, first thing on Easter morning, and the scales should be than 68.5 Kilos. There’s a bit of a trick here because the scales always weigh heavier on a Sunday than, say, on Saturday after I have completed Park Run, so leading up to Holy Week, I need to be super disciplined.
The first couple of weeks I tried really hard and got down to 68.5 easily. It meant that I went without some yummy stuff, but it also meant that I went just a little further on my morning jog. Taking up something, giving up something. It’s part of the old familiar Lenten pattern, but seen through a different filter this time. The gruelling bit has been maintaining the pattern and not allowing insidious habits to sneak back. Surely that candy bar, just one lonely solitary chocolate-covered confectionery, wouldn’t do that much harm, would it? Or if I just shaved off this last little bit of my run… that would be kind of OK… wouldn’t. Hec! No one would know… would they? But these minuscule, inconsequential things do make a significant difference. The scales tell me so… brutally.
We all need to set the bar somewhere. Somewhere where it’s not too easy, so we don’t have to try. And not too high that we give way to despair. The bar for me has been 68.5… and for you?