Praise then darkness, and creation unfinished

While I was working out today, one of the trainers, who was working with someone while I did my thing nearby, looked over and said "You've lost a lot of weight," and I gave some variation on "huh?" and, when she said something about "since you started," I said something about the surgery and about muscle being denser than fat. It's not just that this isn't a weight loss program. It's that if it had been, I'd have stopped exercising long before I lost weight, because exercise doesn't seem to affect my weight: what I've lost weight from is the Bell's palsy (or, more precisely, the prednisone I was given to treat that) and the gall bladder surgery. I don't know how long that trainer has been seeing me there; it may have been several years. But I still don't know how to answer those remarks, especially in that sort of context that's part appearance and part health. Also, the gym has been posting "daily fitness hints" for the last couple of weeks, and today's was to take "before" photos and measurements. That's going to be irrelevant to what a significant number of people want, because it has nothing to do with ability: even in terms of the fitness culture, along with those who want a better mood, there are people whose goal is to improve their marathon time or their basketball game.

That aside, it was a good workout, and afterwards, when I went into the usual Starbucks, the woman looked at me, and said "Tall whole milk hot chocolate" and when I said "you got it" told me it was on the house. Which was a nice extra.

( the usual numbers, in weights and reps )

The doctor's office was quite efficient (I'm guessing surgeons don't have as many patient appointments as most other specialists), which meant that right at my scheduled time, the nurse showed me into an exam room, asked where the incisions were, and then instructed me to take my shirt off and put on a hospital gown, but that I could keep my bra on, and the doctor would be in in a couple of minutes. I had nothing handy to read, having left my magazine in the waiting room. So, as long as I had a couple of minutes waiting for the doctor, I took a moment to check my weight on the scale in the corner (the old-fashioned doctor's office kind where I could also have checked my height). I'm not 100% sure of the result, because the scale, and therefore I, was crammed into a small space between the exam table and some other object I forget, and that might distort things. Given that, it looks as though living largely on stored body fat for a week or so cost me no more than ten pounds, maybe less than five (I don't normally track my weight), so that's okay. I, adrian_turtle, and cattitude, had all been a little concerned: I'm supposed to get my energy and nutrients from food, but that was hard when I had no appetite.