Yesterday was my annual physical. I used to cry my way through them. Seriously, I’m sure my then-doc probably had private notes on my chart to always have adequate tissues on hand. All it would take would be something like “you’ve gained a few pounds since the last time you were in” and the tears, previously held back and just under the surface, would shoot out like a geyser.

I don’t do that anymore. For the last few years, I’ve felt pretty darned good about doctor appointments, for the most part. (It’s a little hard to forget about when my knee surgery was delayed because of weight a couple of yeas ago.) I didn’t cry yesterday, either, but it wasn’t as shining and glorious a report as I’d been getting. My current doc doesn’t bring up my weight unless I do; and for the first time, I didn’t, but I have also been judging my final weight on health markers. While they are still excellent overall, they’re not as good as I had hoped. I have work to do.

I have also not been as steadfast with efforts recently, and both my weight and overall cholesterol numbers show that. I can blame lots of things for that; stress, a recent death in the family, my husband’s recent return to work as a teacher for in-school instruction during a pandemic (and the paranoia of whether or not we might both contract Covid and pass it to someone else), and the list goes on. But when we get right down to it, I’ve been putting too much of the wrong kinds of food in my mouth. And while I know that solves nothing and only adds to my stress, I’ve done it, anyway.

Yesterday was a reminder of what I already know: it’s time to buckle down and stop making excuses. I know what I’m doing wrong, and I’ll phase back to strict adherence while I also explore ways to relieve stress and take away that excuse. No “food vacations” for a bit. I’ve extended the last one far too long, and I know better.

Please don’t see any of this as me beating myself up: it’s more the process of analyzing and understanding what needs to be changed and adjusted, which is now a constant process for me. That tends to get set aside during times of stress, and making good decisions is more of a challenge when faced with, for instance, preplanned family lunches after a funeral where every lunch is identical and wrapped, as it should be during a pandemic. But rather than mitigating and accepting a small deviation and sticking with the sandwich I wouldn’t normally have chosen for myself, I doubled (and maybe tripled!) down with chips and brownies.

Now, as things are starting to settle down, it’s my job and in my best personal interests to simply figure out ways to alleviate stress, and to also not use it as a reason to add more stress to my plate (or anything else that doesn’t belong there). I’m better off making the effort to do things I will be proud of as I lay my head on my pillow each night. I know well that those small efforts lead to large victories.

I know where my comfort zone is, and I haven’t been there. It’s time to head toward my journey’s home.