Savage Words: The dorkey guy walking through the grocery store

New Year’s resolutions are tough to keep. You know it, I know it.

In years past, I’ve often set the bar low, just so I wouldn’t feel disappointed as the year progressed. Eating more pasta and drinking more wine had been my New Year’s resolution for about a decade straight. And – not surprisingly – I was able to keep it, very successfully.

But that approach has started to sneak up on me a bit over the years. At my most recent wellness check with my doctor last December, he told me I had to lose some weight, and watch what I eat. I suppose everyone hears that from their doctor as birthdays continue to amass.

But I heard him, loud and clear.

I’ve got diabetes, or at least I’m right on the edge. My blood sugar levels continued to creep up over the last several years, and I’m sure the New Year’s resolution to eat more pasta likely didn’t help.

So, in January of this year, I decided to make a change, in both what I ate, and how often I moved. I read once that the secret to a long life is: 1.) Drink a lot of water; 2.) Keep moving; and 3.) Stay proactive with your doctor.

I drink enough water now to make a camel blush. I’m always thinking about it, and I’m always downing water, no matter where I’m at. I also keep moving, at least 10,000 steps per day. And as far as staying proactive with my doctor, I’m sure he’s sick of me contacting him frequently on Mysanfordchart.org.

Since Jan. 5 of this year, I’m down 46 pounds. I’ve still got some work to do, but it’s tough.

The thing that spurred my weight loss was ‘The Shot.’ Because I’m borderline on the diabetes scale, I was prescribed Mounjaro, one of the popular GLP-1 drugs in the United States right now that lowers A1C levels, and as a side effect, can also reduce body weight by up to 20 percent.

I’ve heard people say that people on one of the GLP-1 drugs (Mounjaro, Ozempic, Wegovy) are taking the easy way out.

Easy way out? Trust me, since being on the shot beginning Jan. 5, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Your appetite is shot, and you feel a little nauseous most of the week. 

But man, I’m wearing some jeans now that I hadn’t for some time. Some wonder if it’s worth it. I do too at times. But I just had my A1C checked, and it’s in the normal range, pasta-be-damned.

The GLP-1 medicines work, but they’re effectiveness is heightened with diet and exercise. The diet pretty much takes care of itself, because nothing sounds good and you really don’t eat that much.

But you have to put in the work for exercise. I don’t workout like I used to. Twenty years ago, I ran 30 miles per week. I think of that now and my knees simply crack when the thought enters my mind. I can’t do that any longer. But I still get 10,000 walking steps in, no matter what.

It’s actually not hard to do. Knocking out 10,000 steps per day sort of almost happens anyway. Just a normal day, and you’re probably at 6,500-7,000. It’s that extra nudge to get over the top that sometimes takes a little effort.

During the warmer months, it’s really easy for me, and anyone I suppose. There are some paths and routes I walk around my house, around different areas of town, where I know exactly the step-count. Grabbing 10,000 steps is almost down to a science when the temps are warm.

But these last few weeks have presented a challenge. If you haven’t noticed, things are a tad nippy. A couple of times, I’ve set off on my normal path outside, only to turn around when the air literally hurts my face.

Which begs the question, why do we live in a place where going outside makes your face hurt?

But, like you, I love it here. I actually enjoy winter, but going for lengthy walks from December-March can get dicey.

So over the last week or so, I’ve gone to my local grocery store. I walk each aisle, and as I do so, I can only imagine there’s a person watching for shoplifters from high above in one of the small windows throughout the store. I’ll bet there have been times when they’ve shook their heads as they see me enter, shivering.

“The dorky dude walking the aisles is back,” no doubt has been heard on the in-store radios.

But I always buy something, but rarely is it food, which is ironic given the place I’m pacing.

I told a friend the other day that I’m down 46 pounds. He scoffed.

“What happens when you lose another 46,” he said.

“Then that would be 92 total,” I said.

He didn’t get it, the math, nor the reasoning.