I’ve never been a very good Catholic. Last time I attended Mass was my brother’s funeral in October. The time before that was my grandfather’s funeral five or six years ago. The time before that was the Christmas Eve I passed out during Communion and decided I should no longer attend Mass. Seriously, it happened.

That said, I love the tradition and ritual of Lent. I give up something every year. A few years ago, I gave up beer. That Easter Sunday, Jeff called because he knew it was my first day back on the beer wagon. I told him I’d just cracked one open and that he should come on over. By the time he picked up our mutual friend and called again to say he was on his way, I’d had three brewskis and was passed out.

Two years ago, I gave up cookies. Everyone in my office lost about five pounds during that forty-day hiatus. Last year, working in Pioneer Square, I gave up driving to work and took the bus so I wouldn’t have to pay for parking. That was a pretty big sacrifice. Fortunately, my then-boyfriend stayed over most nights and would drop me off at work on his way home. It was only kinda cheating.

This year, I am giving up stopping at the coffee shop on my way to work. Since taking this job and the accompanying pay raise, I have been splurging on lattes and scones at least twice a week. No more! I hope this significant sacrifice will accomplish two things: save me some money and take a few layers of padding off my oversized butt.

I’ve been working out at a pretty good pace lately. I’ve been getting in no less than three workouts a week, and often, I’m getting four. I’ve added a Sunday morning brisk walk around Greenlake and have spiced up my usual routine by hitting the gym hard at least one night a week for a forty-five minute cardio extravaganza. Not surprisingly, my knee is fucking killing me. I had to take Ibuprofen just to get to sleep last night it was hurtin’ me so bad. I’d iced it, and worn my brace for both my walk on Sunday and on the elliptical trainer yesterday morning.

And the worst part is, I’m gaining weight. I don’t own a scale, so I don’t know this for sure. But my loose pants aren’t so loose anymore. I feel like blubbery crap and even though I was dying to hit the gym this morning before work, I knew my body would respond better tomorrow morning if I let it rest some today.

What this brings me to is the realization that I have to do more, for now anyway, than just keep the exercise up in order to keep the weight off. (At least until I’m living in Portland and getting aerobic exercise in other, non-gym-related ways, wink wink.) So this morning, on my way to work, I stopped by Tully’s one last time. I indulged in a cinnamon roll and a latte and I’m not going to let myself feel bad about it.

I don’t make new year’s resolutions, but I will say things like “The diet starts tomorrow,” about Lent. Here’s to hoping I’ll be able to wear my pastel green chinos by Easter.

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