In a bit less than half a year, I’ll be celebrating a significant birthday. One of the big ones. When that day comes around, I am determined to be thinner.
This is the first post of many I’ll be making on this weight-loss Journey. I’ll get into my motivations, methods, and the exact numbers—age and poundage—in later posts. You might get sick of hearing about it. If it gets to be TMI, just tune yourself out.
My Journey, which began a few weeks ago, includes weekly weigh-ins and meetings at Weight Watchers with my dear wife Susan, as well as “tracking”—compulsively and thoroughly listing everything I eat and drink. At my second weigh-in, mostly because I had food poisoning for a couple of days, I lost five pounds. I won’t go into detail on the symptoms, but take it from me that Imodium is, indeed, a wonder drug for weight loss.
Let me be clear. I’m certainly not advocating bulimia or any form of purging or digestive hell, but I’m hyperaware that the week I lost five pounds was the same week Imodium blocked me up like an Army Corps of Engineers dam. It’s just guilt by association, of course, but you know how powerful that can be.
The next week I gained .6 pounds, an inevitable “bounce” effect after a big week of weight loss. The week after that I lost the very same .6 pounds. So overall I’m down by about five to date.
More to come.