Day 1

So it's a pretty slow day now. Quite frankly, feeling sluggish. Not much activity going on and the office is exceptionally quiet. I'm tempted to nap till my next meeting. But I'm deciding against it. Guess I'll fix myself another pot of tea. Maybe that'll wake me up. 

For devotionals today, it was about King David's preparation for the building of the temple. I especially liked the passage where he thanked the Lord for enabling him and the nation of Israel to give what they have for the building of the temple. They gave gold, silver, iron and precious stones. But the most important part was their acknowledgement that all they have is the Lord's, including their offerings. A good reminder in times when resources are dwindling. "All that you have is His. He will provide in His time." Amen.

My uncle's triple bypass surgery should be wrapping up now. No news is good news, I guess. Will continue to pray.

I'll be making a presentation later today to a new digital and PR campaign providers. I hope they'll be nice folks to work with.

Breakfast: 1/2 cup rice, 3 fish fingers, 2 kikiam slices

Lunch: Tuna pimiento stuffed pan de sal from 7-11

Activity: Walked 5 minutes from Buendia Ave. to office

In the beginning...

Well, not exactly.

This effort is, by no means, my first stab at getting healthy. There have been countless before it. And since I'm embarking on going into the right path again, the past attempts have fizzled out quite horribly.

First of all, I'll be honest: When I go into making a resolution, it's because of a certain event or incident. The last time I got quite successful in losing weight was because a guy stood me up for a date, and the only reason I could think of why he would be that rude was because I was fat.

I know, of course, that that was a pretty lame reason. But like I said, I'm being honest.

So the motivating incident this time was yesterday when I donated blood for my uncle on my father's side. Today, he'll be undergoing triple bypass surgery, a complication drawn out because of Type 2 diabetes.

My gene pool (as I think is the case for most folks nowadays) has managed to collect inhabitants such as hypertension, asthma and cancer. My maternal grandparents passed away before they reached their mid-60s. My mom's brother, died at the age of 50 due to complications from his diabetes.

My paternal grandparents, thankfully, are still with us. However, all my dad's three sisters have been diagnosed with cancer. The eldest sister passed away at the age of 50 from colon cancer. The two others have been found in the early stages of breast cancer, with one having had a mastectomy. My grandmother, at the age of 85, also had to have a mastectomy because of several tumors found in her right breast.

My mom is hypertensive and takes maintenance drugs to keep it at bay. Even then, when moderately stressed, her BP spikes dangerously high. Seven years ago, my dad had to undergo brain surgery to excise a tumor in his brain stem. There have been no complications so far, but some damage has been done nonetheless.

So going back to my blood donation, as it is with things like these, a check-up is routine and a big part of that is, of course, the weighing scale.

I stepped onto the hospital's scale (the type with the counter weights, which you have to move around to find your weight). I'd already settled with the fact that that big block would always sit on the 150lbs mark, and that the smaller block would play around the 20 to 30lbs area. So yeah, I was already comfortable with being 170 to 180lbs.

But when the nurse moved the big block, she immediately shifted it into the 200 mark, which horrified me actually. "Am I THAT fat now?" And while I haven't tipped the scales that far back yet, I am dangerously close at 195.

I really shouldn't be asking myself how I got to be this way. I have neglected exercise and I don't watch what I eat. To be honest, I think I've long suspected that when I consider how when I get dressed, I make it a point NOT to look at the mirror as much as possible. I just give myself a quick once over and that's it. I don't check myself out because I know I let myself go BIG TIME.

So as I was stepping off from the scale, I was feeling pretty low. So what'd I do? I ate fried potatoes and a cheese pizza.

You see where this is going?

As I was eating I knew what was going on, but I refused to face up to the fact I am severely obese. And at 30 years old, all those bad stuff I mentioned about my family's health is no longer a likelihood. It's a certainty if I don't change what I'm doing now.

Which brings me to this point. I plan to keep this blog to journal what I'm going through as I try to change.

One of the first things Blogger asks you to do when you start a blog is to give your new blog a title. I thought of just putting something generic into it, but then somehow, a phrase came to mind.

"...your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit..."

A quick Google search and I get the Bible reference of I Corinthians 6:19 which says:

"What? know ye not that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost [which is] in you, which ye have of God, and ye are not your own?"

It's funny that the verse begins with "What?" as if to say "How can you possibly forget this important fact?!" or "You mean to tell me that before this you had no idea to whom your body belongs to?!"

So that verse is a reminder to me that, like with everything in this world, my body is not my property. I am merely a steward asked by the Master to manage it for a while. He gave it to me in a condition He best suited for me, and He's tasked me to take care of it. Not for His benefit, mind you. But for my own. And that through this body, He can do His work.

Who am I that should prevent His work by mismanaging this vessel? While I don't think it is a direct sin being obese, I think I'm missing out on the blessing of being fully used by the Lord because my body is not at it's best shape.

Now is as good a time as any to start changing things big and small.

And so we begin.