Looking Up

When I go to one of my jobs, I have a daily choice set before me: elevator or elevate myself...via several flights of stairs. Lately I've been feeling motivated enough to ascend - somewhat slowly and out-of-breath all howevermanyIhaven'tcounted stairs. I'm proud of my 40-something self!

I'd like to say that the motivation is all about me. I have the gumption, the willpower, the spunk! Nope. At first it was just to see if I could do it. As I puffed up one flight and then another, teens chugged behind me like it was no big deal (nice of them to not pass me) and gazed in wonder and innocent bewilderment as I gasped for air as if from under water at the very top of the stairs.

It wasn't long before I realized I would have to have something else to motivate me, since apparently health and weight loss weren't enough. I decided some creative problem-solving was in order and since I have a thing for British comedian/actor/eye candy Eddie Izzard, I began to envision him at the top of the stairs, waiting for me. Yum. Waiting for me why? I have no idea, the thought of him just being there was enough. I didn't think it through any further than that. I know, no fun, but every day I lifted one foot and then another thinking it would be a long time before anyone found me if I had a heart attack as I wound my way upward.

No heart-attacks so far, but I began to feel odd about my main motivation excluding God. So things became even stranger. You didn't think that was possible, did you?

I started imagining Jesus and Eddie up there on the last landing. There, no more odd feelings. Now there were just odd thoughts.

Would it still be okay to dress Eddie in something particularly attractive while standing next to the Lord? Hmmm. Wasn't sure about that. Eddie, being talkative at times, would be sure to strike up a conversation with Jesus, and what would they talk about? Could be an awkward situation, given the fact that Eddie claims to not believe in God. At least I knew Jesus better than to take the bait if Eddie decided to push His buttons and try to start an argument.

How much weight have I lost? I have no idea. I used to step cautiously onto the scale every morning, hoping for a Starting My Day Right result, yet often being disappointed, no matter how healthy I ate or how much exercise I had actually accomplished. But I can still fit into my current jeans (size 12, thankyouverymuch) and I have not died or fallen down the stairs just yet. So far so good. I'll just keep climbing and looking up...in my own way.