One less jug of milk

Lawrence Toppman

A wise person told me to measure weight-loss progress in tangible ways, so I try to envision the pounds as something specific that I no longer carry around. When I realized I'd lost eight pounds -- roughly the weight of one gallon of milk -- I imagined myself no longer tying such a thing to my waist.

I assume the weight is mostly gone from my waist, anyhow. My belts now slide (sometimes with a little extra persuasion) into the holes next to the ones that are creased and worn from long use. If I'm losing weight from anywhere else, I can't tell.

As of yesterday, I could taste food again. Yet I wasn't tempted to reward my reawakened senses with a gigantic snowflake muffin, one of my favorite indulgences. I had three small cookies at day's end and was thankful to have all five senses in working order.

I'm under no delusion that I'm free from the need to binge on sugar. I'll spend my whole life looking longingly at cheesecake slices across diner counters. But if I toe the line most of the time, I'll feel better about stepping over it on occasion -- especially if I can get rid of one more "gallon" of fat.