OK--Nobody has ever told me (unless they were obviously joking) that I'm fat. I'm 5'10" tall and have been basically within 5 pounds either way of 135 for almost 20 years. According to the charts, I could carry 155-160 lbs and still not be overweight. However, when I'm in shape, I tend to hover around 136-138 with almost no effort (I hear boos and hisses). I can eat what I want, get in 3-5 easy runs a week, and never think about weight. The biggest I ever got was 147 lbs, the year that we traveled cross-country for a month. in that time, I ate out at least once a day and didn't run for 40 consecutive days. Within a month of getting home, I was right back in my "normal" range.
Last night, Mrs. Sal remarked as I was getting in bed, "you look a little thicker around the middle." I protested, but finally decided to prove to her that it was all in her head by climbing on the scale. The result: 146 pounds. Admittedly, I had been eating junk food all day (and had just polished off all the leftovers of a particularly good ice cream dessert she made). And admittedly, I've had a week of getting 3 solid meals of camp food (including such things as biscuits and gravy for breakfast). Worse, thanks to my back injury, I haven't run in over a week, and only have one short run in the past two weeks. But still... that's only a pound less than my lifetime high, and it happened quick (I was 138 the week before camp).
What I guess this means is that I've finally reached a point where I need to run and/or watch my diet. That's no fun. And more than anything, I want to get on the roads and burn some of this poundage off. Hopefully, Dr. Lowery will give me the go-ahead to start working out again tomorrow. With the lower back still hurting, I'm hesitant to even do a sit-up until cleared. For now, I'm just bummed.