tight spot (m)

What I like most about losing weight are the unexpected benefits.  They surprise you at almost every turn, reminding you of how much of a role weight loss --and weight gain --play in our lives.

In September of 2007, I consulted with a nutritionist.  She was based in Brookline in a building complex that was part of a medical center.  The attached parking garage was one of those nightmare structures--dark, narrow and windy.  Even at 8:30 a.m., you had to wind your way to the top floor to find a space.  The slots were undersized by most open parking lot standards.

One particularly horrible day, I got a spot, went into my appointment, and came out to find that a Yukon Denali (bigger than a regular Yukon which is a beast) had stuffed itself right next to my car, on the driver's side.  I couldn't fit in the space to open the door.  Ditto the right side, although I think most normal people could have fit there. 

What do I do?  Call Triple A and ask if they can bring a large scale shoehorn to get me in?  Airlift me through the sunroof?

I opened the trunk of the SUV and crawled in, climbed over the back seat and, huffing and puffing, sat in the driver's seat until I caught my breath enough to drive out of there....proverbial tail between my legs.

It was a low point.

Today, I went to see the surgeon for another consult.  I got there a little before the appointment and didn't want to be late so I took the first parking spot I saw.  The cars on either side of the open spot parked right on the white line which made for a tight squeeze.

I pulled in, turned the motor off and got out.  Opened the door and was careful not to bump the door of the other car.

As I walked uphill to the entrance, I paused to reflect on the fact that I no longer worry about "body clearance."

Progress.