Monthly Archives: January 2013

As my life unraveled I reached a point where all I could say was

Fuck it, I’ll have another cookie

I self-medicated with comfort food

In the lonely evenings I fed my longing with empty calories

But even though they were empty they weren’t benign

My gut started just below my chin and curved south

Like I’d swallowed a roll-top desk

I would get winded lacing up my shoes

The ring I no longer wore wouldn’t have fit anyway

I travelled the trail from stout to fat

Saw a signpost pointing to morbidly obese straight ahead

So I decided to pull a u-turn

At first it was like those supertankers

Taking half an ocean to turn around

As I cut out sugars and fats and switched licorice and sweets

For celery sticks and carrots

Each inch cinched tighter was a struggle not a cinch

I stopped channel surfing past Doctor Oz and paused to watch

Started subtracting familiar foods

Until my burgers were only lettuce and tomato

I slipped into rawness with the stealth of a paleo hunter

Now I buy new jeans every month or so

Smaller and smaller

The roll-top desk is gone

I barely break a sweat on the home gym

Which is comforting in the extreme of this extreme

I have become immune to commercials

I drive past fast food joints barely registering their existence

Hunger pangs are familiar friends I hang with

No longer feared but embraced

I smile into mirrors at the thinner inner me

Who was always there before but badly camouflaged

Now I knit new cloth

From the unraveled tapestry pooled on the floor

And barely remember the taste of cookies

 

 

David Trudel    ©  2013