Week 50: 176 pounds

I just realized how long it has been since I updated this blog. Looking back over the post titles, I am not seeing the numbers I hoped to see, but I am seeing what I guess I expected to see. I know this body. I've lived in it all my life.

That said, I finished the C25K plan runs, and the Turkey Day 5K came and went. I didn't run in the 5K, but it came and went. My buddy ran however, of course. The temperature was 5 degrees! Call me wimpy, I don't care. I was warm.

Thanksgiving was a bounty of food as usual, and I rose to the occasion and did my level best to reduce the amount of potential leftovers. My mother-in-law commented on how much thinner I look, and I was feeling it too! Before dinner, that is. But I noticed that it took less food than usual to get me to that "Good God, just cut me open I can't take the pain!" point post-meal. So that's nice.

In the wake of Thanksgiving and the absense of the pressure to train for the 5K I never ran in, I have stopped running again. I tell myself daily that I am making a mistake and need to get back at it. And I will. Now that I've said it here, I know I actually will, too. Something about posting my intentions here makes me want to follow through on them just that much more. So there is that....

Week 45: 175 pounds

Getting there! Whew. I just finished Week Six of the C25K Plan, and it kicked my ass. But on 2 out of the 3 runs, the damn circuit breaker on the treadmill tripped, sending me careening forward in what I suppose was a comical display of uncoordination, if anyone would have seen it. But all it did was piss me off, as all of my numbers (distance, time, laps, calories, etc) reset to zeros! Grrrr!! Tonight, after work, I am taking the thing apart and bypassing the wimpy circuit breaker. I know, that's unsafe. But so is putting a chubby body onto a treadmill so I guess I'm living on the edge!

Week seven looks daunting to me, but I gotta do it. I promised, with a handshake, that I would run with a friend of mine on the Turkey Day 5K Run, which is in only a few weeks! He happens to be a runner in phenomenal shape too, so no pressure there!! But there is no backing out, and I really don't want to anyway, so here I go.

Oh, and I like the fact that I am noticing less "belly bounce" when I walk around throughout the day. Not that I have six-pack abs or anything, but I am tighter! I like that, so that is helping me fuel my resolve to continue.

The cumulative effect of this is paying off now in a slightly exponential way. That is to say, that the more I work out, the more I CAN work out. Thus my increased workouts are resulting in greater gains (or, losses, I suppose!), which means I can do even MORE! Adding more weights and doing more reps of each, running greater distances and at faster paces, all are providing me more benefit. The kicker here, is that even though I knew this logically all along, I still had to feel it for myself in order to believe it myself. Hardly an epiphanistic revelation, but still a thinking point for me when I ponder why the kids won't listen to what I am telling them. But I digress...

Week 44: 177 pounds

Give or take a few, I suppose. The numbers aren't reflecting the progress I am making, but I don't really care. I started Week 5 of the C25K Plan, and I gotta say this week is easier than Week 4 was. But I also think some of that is due to conditioning too. It's getting easier because I'm getting better. I can feel the difference in my stomach, and my clothes are starting to fit again.
Last week was a "cluster" for scheduling, so I ran Sunday, and then not again until Thursday and right away again Friday. I got my Week 4 done that way, but it sucked. I didn't get the day between for recovery that they recommend, and I felt it on Saturday. But sure enough, Sunday came along like it always does, and I started Week 5. When I was done, I felt pretty good which was lucky for me because I needed to take a quick shower and get to work, where I spent the whole 8 hours on my feet running around like mad. THANK GOD FOR 5-HOUR ENERGY!!!! I really love that stuff. My breakfast on Sunday consisted of a cereal bar, a Diet coke, and a 5-Hour Energy. And I felt great all day. Collapsed into a blubbering heap that night, but felt great all day!
I'm posting my progress at the C25K Facebook page too, and it is so great to see the inspiring posts from others there going through this too. Some are just starting out and doubtful of their potential, and others are veterans offering up "if I can you can too" style encouragement. It's really nice. I'm somewhere in the middle now; not a newbie but not done either. I like it here.
I was challenged by my friend to run in the Turkey Day 5K this year, and going by the calendar that would be just about the right timing assuming I am sticking to the program. And I am assuming as much, so we'll see. For now I am not making that promise, because he is going through the recent loss of his dad and has other things to think about now, but maybe in time we'll revisit the notion. Until then, gotta keep running.

Week 42: 178 pounds

Back at it! I started running again, and I have decided to repeat Week 3 of the Couch to 5K Plan. Not as a form of self-punishment, but because I really need to get back up to where I was before thinking I can just jump into it. And honestly, Weeks 1 and 2 were not all that dang hard. Sure, I was sweaty and breathing hard, but other stuff causes that too. Week 3 isn't really hard either in the grand scheme of it all, but for a lump like me it is enough of a challenge for me to be respectful of it.

Ooh, and a big ball!!

I have one of those stability balls that I use for doing sit-ups on, and let me tell ya it is SO MUCH BETTER ON THE BACK! My lower back has been doing weird things lately, and I really notice it during sit-ups. This thing is a hoot! Sure, I like to bounce around on it too. Who wouldn't? But the little plug that goes into the air fill hole is rather intimidating. It's like FOUR INCHES LONG! I have this nightmare-ish vision of the ball popping while I'm sitting on it, and the spike impaling me right through the "Exit Only" sign.

But I still bounce on it. Can't resist.

Back to the Plan: I am supposed to run three days a week (every other day), and take 2 days off to recover. Golly, a M-W-F "on", Sa-Su "off" schedule seems right on. But no, I tried that and found that it's better for me to do a Su-Tu-Th "on", F-Sa "off" approach. Sunday mornings I get up before everyone else anyway, so I have plenty of time to get in a workout and a run, take a shower, and have a bowl of cereal before anyone else is even stirring. It's nice. That leaves two nights in the middle of the week. Two nights! Psshhh! Who can't commit to two nights? AND, I'm talking about a commitment of about 45 minutes total, if I take my time.

Seriously, if I whine about how I can't do this, come find me and offer up the head-smack I deserve.

Week 41: 179 pounds

...and holding. In fact, I'm stuck once again in a "holding pattern" just circling around my plan instead of doing something about it. Dammit! I haven't run once since my dad went into the hospital, but there hasn't been a day I don't think about it. So there it sits, in my head, nagging me to do something about it. And there I sit, rationalizing it away and promising myself I'll get to it.

Sure, the truth is that I have a lot of stuff happening right now in my life, and I'm stressed out big time about it. And the last thing I am interested in is exercising. But I gotta slap that lame-o excuse outta my head and realize that EVERYONE is stressed about something, and in fact exercising actually HELPS me feel better (albeit tired) afterward.

Man, this blogging thing is easy. The rest of it sucks though.

Week 40: 178 pounds

Ok, so I had to take a break from the Couch-to-5K thing for a week, because my father was in the hospital and I spent all of my available time there. He is recovering nicely now, after beating back congestive heart failure. But I learned a few startling things during the time I was visiting him. Actually no, I guess I knew them all along, but they never really registered with me until now. I'm gonna die of a heart attack, assuming I don't get hit by a truck first. It's in my family, on both sides. My dad's dad had a heart attack, my mom's dad had a heart attack, my dad's birth mother did, as did my mom's mom and her mom as well; all heart attacks. So, I guess I know what my ticket out will be.

Seeing my father in the hospital, all hooked up to enough technology to amaze NASA, made me project myself there in a few years. I didn't like it. Gotta work the program harder, so I can reduce my risk.

But then the surgeon that performed the procedure added this little bit of wisdom: "I've seen people in horrible shape, and people in fine-tuned athletic shape, suffer congestive heart failure, so one never knows." Great. What's the point then?

Oh, I know: So when the hot nurses are hooking me up to NASA, I'm not too embarrassed by my body. Yeah, that's the ticket.

Week 38: 179 pounds

I finished my weekly run regimen last night for Week 2. I get today off, and start Week 3 tomorrow. I'm actually excited about it, because although my legs would disagree, I really believe I can do this! Now, saying "I get today off" makes it sound like a vacation from something bad. To be honest, it IS bad. I get tired, sweaty, sore... all the rest. But the payoff is worth it, so I keep plugging away. Also, I have gone fairly public with this effort, posting it on my Facebook page as well as the CoolRunnings site and their Facebook page. Imagine my embarrassment if I don't follow through. It's gotta be worse than the embarrassment I feel when I look at myself in the mirror after a shower. And that's pretty embarrassing!!

Week 37: 180 pounds

I am a teacher. I am now back to work for the year. I took the summer off. I had plans of working my weight-loss plan HARD over the summer, and returning a lean, mean, fighting machine! However, I took the summer off of that plan too. (sigh!). So, here I go again. For anyone reading this also struggling with weight loss and going nowhere, I'm the mascot!

But I started a running program called "Couch To 5K". The info is here: http://www.coolrunning.com/engine/2/2_3/181.shtml
So, in 9 weeks, I'll be running a 5K! How the heck is it possible for me to NOT lose weight while training for this?

And I know, it is a chuckle for those runners out there, hearing someone say "I'm in training for a 5K". Really? Well in fact, yes. The program is called "COUCH To 5K" for a reason. I got the "couch" part down. I just need to work on the rest.

So I have successfully completed week one. It's not that bad. I think I can do this!

Week 18: 180 pounds

...but I feel much fatter than that. In fact, I put on a shirt that used to fit me pretty well after my previous 50 pound weight loss, and it was tight. I looked back a few posts ago when I was saying something about feeling thinner despite the number on the scale, but that certainly is not today. And surely not right at this moment. Let me explain...

This morning I was a bit more rushed than I usually allow myself to be, and as such I didn't have my usual bowl of cereal. No biggie, I told myself, I'll just pick something up on the way in to work. I stopped at Burger King for a croisanwich (good LORD those things are good!), and a diet coke. The kind lady at the window accidentally put two in the bag (I checked the receipt; one was "free"), and I told myself I wasn't going to eat the second one, since I wasn't planning on eating two anyway and who in the world needs two of them? So, after I finished the second one, I was berating myself for being so weak in the face of temptation, and bracing myself for the inevitable discomfort that comes from eating so much grease-laden, fat-injected paradise. I knew I would feel miserable, and now, I do. So, I decided to come here and share it. I got my money's worth, that's for sure!

So, having skipped a week in posting here, and having no good news to share, and basically wallowing in regret, this all should be a nice awakening for me. I hope so.

Week 16: 180 pounds

...And I am only kind of surprised it is that low! I was away for the weekend at a workshop where they fed us so well, in portions so large, it was not uncommon for all of us to push ourselves away from the table with the same "post-Thanksgiving groan," and proclaim to ourselves and each other that we won't eat the next meal like that.

And then, after several more hours of workshops and a renewed hunger, we were all back in the dining hall, repeating the process. Between meals, there were copious amounts of snacks, goodies, and various temptations all laid out, all free, and all begging to be consumed. I did my part. I am still detoxing from the food experience.

Tons of eating, coupled with tons of sitting around, results in gained weight. Who'd of thunk it?

Week 15: 178 lbs

Ok, so that whole "do it for 14 days to become a habit" thing must be true, because I haven't, and it isn't.

But I am far more active than I have been lately, and to my thinking "active" is almost as good as "exercising," right? I mean, it's better than the butt-shaped indentation on my couch deepening. And I am constantly aware of my activity level, and trying to keep it up. When given the choice of the closest parking spot, or the elevator, I park farther away and take the stairs. Small things, I know, but things.

I took a walk around the U of M campus yesterday, because the weather was so nice and I was there anyway. It was great. I was on my feet for the majority of time between 10:30 am and 8:30 pm, walking and carrying stuff, or standing. Not cardio, but at least calorie-burning. And I was very tired afterward, so I call that a victory.

The thing is, I feel thinner, in that my pants are looser, my shirts hang better, and I am able to move up another notch in my belt. To hell with the scale, I'm getting thinner!

Week 14: 178 pounds

Spring break was last week, thus the lack of posting. In fact, a general lack of doing anything. I can't afford to do much right now anyway, so I just stayed around home and hung out.

Conveniently enough, home is where my exercise equipment is, so I devoted time every day of spring break to working out. I missed one day, but I'm still doing much better than any of my previous efforts. I was pretty proud of myself for seeing it through despite my desire to just sit around, and I have to admit I felt better after each workout.

So what the Hell is up with my weight? One pound?? ONE lousy pound!? I didn't change my diet at all from my already fairly meager meals, and I stepped up the physical contribution. Perhaps, it is that whole "muscle weighs more than fat" thing, but it's not like I'm bulking up!

Whatever. I guess at least I am still heading in the right direction. They say you have to do a thing for 14 days in a row for it to become a habit. I'm working on it...

Week 12: 179 pounds

I'm out of the 180's, which is nice! And I'm out of sync with my dates too. Since my last post was on a Friday instead of a Monday, and today is Wednesday, it's just the way it'll have to be. But I wanted to be able to post something in the 170's, and I can, so I did, and there you go.

Week 11: 180 pounds

Math is not my strong suit, but I know the "week" number keeps going up, and the "pounds" number is staying the same. (Yes, I also see the gap in dates, no need to go there...)

But now that it is getting nice outside, the inevitable truth that I knew already is before me: I wish I had done it back when I started it. That said, I am proud to report that I am once again off the couch and onto the treadmill. I am a little sore, but it is that familiar, good kind of sore.

I reflected a bit on motivation in general, and determined the short-range problem for me, which I have to think is universal: No immediate results.

It's not like going to the barber with long hair, and emerging with shorter hair and a different look. Or a trip to the eyeglasses store to get different frames. Or even a shopping spree for new clothes. The hard fact is that I take a flabby body to the machines, abuse it for a bit, and leave with the same flabby body, now sore and sweaty. No fun, no results, why keep going?

But that's the key in all this. Persistance above all else. It's not freakin' rocket science, but I guess I needed to take a look at the fact that 11 weeks of my life are gone, and I have nothing to show for it. If only I had listened to myself back then, I would be in a better place today.

The kind of change I am going for is not going to just happen because I wish it to, or because I put forth a half-ass effort. And I can make all the excuses for my lack of advancement that I want to, but it doesn't matter. I know better. Now I have to prove it.

And not to you, whoever is reading this. To me. I already know all the self-defeating demotivators that lounge about in my head, and I have to battle them.

Week 8: 180 pounds

Yeah, I know, "What happened to week 7?" With the Monday holiday, my routine was all off and I didn't post. Not like I had any huge progress to report anyway!! So, kinda like my dieting effort, I just put it off.

Here I am, still, the same weight. Eight weeks have passed, and I have nothing to show for it. Had I just sucked it up for those eight weeks, where would I be now? Rhetorical, don't answer...

I know where I'd be, and that's the bugger of it all! If a guy can safely lose 2 pounds a week, I'd be at 164 pounds right now. There's still snow on the ground, and starting from 164 now until spring arrives would be awesome! And I know I could lose more than 2 pounds per week, and would for sure on some weeks, others not so much, but still, I'd be able to safely say "Week 8: 165 pounds".

OK, a crossroads: This revelation could take one of two tacks, the way I see it. The first is that I just get sad, give up, and resolve myself to a life of chubbiness which is not what I want. The second is that I get mad, find motivation, and start here and now with a fresh resolve to do it!

But as I search myself, neither of those two options have a louder voice. I mean, I'm not giving up but I'm not motivated either. I'm not fat, I'm chubby. I don't like it, but I don't hate it. Well, OK I guess I more hate it than like it, but I have spent 43 years toting around extra weight, and I guess I am just used to it.

So this post is not meant as a trumpet fanfare announcing another start, nor is it a withdrawal from the fight.

I'll get back to you.

Week 6: 181 pounds

Well, consistency thy name is me! Not once this week did I do anything athletic. But God will get me for this. It is snowing like a mutha, and won't stop for a couple days, and that means shoveling. Yes! Cardio!!

Of course, I have a 16 year old in excellent shape who can do it too, and what dad in my position wouldn't send him out to do it? Weren't we all sent out by our parents to brave the elements and get that damn driveway down to blacktop full width? Is that just me? I should call my dad...

Anyway, built-in excuse at the ready, I plan to do the shoveling myself. My son has homework anyway (unless there is a snow day; hey, I can wish too!). After the shoveling is done, while I'm all sweaty and tired anyway, would be a good time to hit the ol' treadmill.

Week 5: 182 pounds

Well, at least I'm consistent!

I suck at this! I have become incredibly skilled at finding reasons (excuses) for not working out, and they are air-tight in my head! I know, I know.... and that's the bugger in all this. I DO know!!

What I don't know, is what it will take to make me stick to my commitment. I can do commitments. I've done several: I quit smoking 17 years ago and stayed with it, I have been married for 23 years and stick to that, I keep returning to school to continue advancing my degrees (and avoid repaying my student loans; now looming close to $90,000 including all the accrued interest since my first loan in 1994),... damn, I didn't want to think about that last one.

The point is, I can stick to things. Why can't I stick to this?

Week 4: 183 pounds

I seem to be going the wrong way. I could have lied and said it stayed the same or something, but that's not what's happening. I gained 2 pounds. Ok, I need to get serious.

Or at least, more serious.

This past weekend, specifically Sunday night, was laden with rich foods, many beers, and loud screaming as a houseful of people watched the Vikings end their run. I wasn't exactly shy about bellying up to the buffet either. But now, those Sunday yell-and-eat fests are over. Whew!

My other nemesis: the couch. I have become one with the couch for far too many hours, far too often. Having no money to go anywhere makes the couch an obvious choice, but I have other choices. I have a multi-station, a situp bench, and a treadmill, for Christ's sake!

Oh, and there is the closet. Every morning, I push hangers around looking for the shirts that still fit, or feel comfortable to wear. I own several shirts, but I wear few of them. And I am down to a couple pairs of pants I wear. Oh sure, there are several pairs hanging there as well, but they don't fit yet. Yet!

So, despite Fred's dislike for my toes, I'm going to post a scale pic at every 5 pound interval. I'm eager to get to one, if only to bother him. That's motivation!

Week 3: 181 pounds

Damn those Vikings! Last Sunday's game included a huge spread of Famous Dave's BBQ including just about everything they serve! Sure, I ate. But not as much as I would have in the past. More than a dieter should, but not as much as in the past. And there was beer. My waistline's old nemesis.
So I had gotten on the scale on Saturday, just because I was feeling particularly good about myself for some reason, and it said 180 pounds. I almost grabbed the camera for proof, but apparently Fred doesn't like my toes, so I decided to forgo the picture.
This morning (Monday), I was up a pound from that, and I am not really surprised I guess. So I'll kick my own butt around for a week, hope for the best, and try to make better choices for next Sunday's game.

Didn't upload...

Here is the next picture that for some reason, didn't make it. Note the decreasing numbers!!

Accountability!

To add a layer of accountability, I will attach a picture of myself on the scale each week. This is not what I want to do, but I need to. You see, lately I have been hanging out on the couch, thinking of all the exercise I could be doing. My motivation is lacking, and I don't know why. So, Boo hoo hoo for me, I gotta just do it, I know. And I figure posting a picture of my chubby little toes on the scale will add the embarrassment I might need in the future, to keep going.

Week 2: 183 pounds

Not a monumental loss, but a loss! And, I am additionally happy that it is a loss and not a gain, given my weekend! Too much football watching with the boys just happens to include too much beer and Gina Maria's pizza. Add to that, the fact that I only worked out once all week and I am truly happy!
Oh, and I do get a bit of exercise every Saturday morning when I go to dance class. Yes, yes I do. I am doing (for the sixth year now!) the "daddy-daughter" dance with my daughter at her dance studio. It is an absolute hoot! A room full of middle-aged, mostly white, mostly out-of-shape men, trying to move in sync. Hilarious! We do more laughing than dancing, which I am told is good for the abs. This year is a hip hop number, complete with MC Hammer moves and everything. Gotta find my parachute pants...
And, one additional bit of "good" to report this week, I am able to tighten my belt one hole! And I don't have to exhale deeply before doing so. I think that's progress...

Poor Me Syndrome

We've all dealt with the feeling that "I am the only one going through this" and "it really sucks to be me now", and other self-defeating self talk. Hey, we're all human and it goes along with the territory sometimes, but it still gets in the way. Pushing it aside is as difficult sometimes as denying a temptation, but the knowledge that it is best helps.
No, I'm not there yet. Sure, dieting and exercising sucks when it is not a regular part of a routine, and I would rather not need to go through this. But I am not at the point yet where I feel owed something for the suffering. That's just ridiculous anyway, and I know it.
In fact, I've lived it before, many times. I've tried (and succeeded in a variety of ways) losing weight before. It usually includes some more self-defeating self talk including a general disdain for myself for putting myself in the situation where I would need to do this in the first place! But that doesn't help either.
The reason for laying all this out there, this early in the game, is to state for all to see that I am aware of it, and if I start to fall into that pitiful trap I may need you to pull me out by calling it as you see it.
And, above all else, I know I am not alone. I have friends that I will not name here since this is a public blog, who are also going through changes they would maybe not have chosen to go through, given a choice. The outcome goal is better than the current situation, but the current situation is the reality they are experiencing now, which makes it hard to "keep your eyes on the prize" as they say (whoever "they" are). My friends are also losing weight, getting divorced, moving, quitting smoking, quitting drinking, and other changes that suck to go through. But in the end, they will be thinner, healthier, and in a better position to take on whatever comes their way.
Me too!

The beginning is always encouraging...

Today, just for fun, I got on the scale and was down 2 pounds. Wait a minute- let me explain. I don't mean getting on the scale is fun, I just did it because it was there. I also sort of expected to punish myself because I had a piece of cake at an event last night, after being so "good" all day. Ok, ok, I know one piece of cake won't make a huge difference in the big picture, but I did it, I admit it, and there it is. Could I have been down more if I hadn't had the cake? I dunno. There's my punishment.
Oh, and I'm not a calorie counter. I look at the numbers (fat, calories, sodium, etc...) and round up before deciding whether or not to eat whatever it is that has the label I am reading, but I am not one of those who charts every number. Some advise that dieters do this, others don't, I don't care.
Everyone has advice, no one is right. There are so many diet plans out there...

Week 1: 185 pounds

I'm going to make entries with my current weight in the title. No sense burying it in the body of the text. It is what it is, and it is going to change!!

Starting with a new year!

It's so cliche to enter into a weight loss promise with the turn of the year, but here I am, doing just that. I've done this before, in fact too many times to mention. But this time is different, I tell myself.
But it is different in a way. This is the first time I have gone this public with it. It's like all the times I quit smoking, by resolving to myself to do so. When I went back to it, no one really knew I had tried and failed, so no real harm was done in my eyes. Once I started telling people I had quit, I had to stick to it or face the wrath of their scorn. It worked, to have the peer pressure working in my favor.
So it goes with my latest weight loss endeavor. I am currently 185 pounds, and not at all happy about it. Normally, that wouldn't be too bad for a 43 year old man, but I am only 5'5", so every extra pound really shows. Short is what I am, and I can't change that. Short and fat is something I don't want to be, and I can at least work on the fat part. Oh, and in a cruel twist of fate, I am also bald. Thanks, Higher Power; short, fat, and bald. Hilarious.
A bit of history would also be good to insert here: I have always struggled with weight, all through childhood. I was never athletic, and didn't want to be. We didn't have the sedentary-inducing distractions kids have today like video games, computers, etc... so we played outside. We were active all the time. I would ride my bike a mile to my friend's house just to see if he wanted to ride bikes, and then we would cover countless miles before returning home. I shudder to think of what a tub of lard I would have been if I were as inactive as many kids today are.
Shortly after getting married 23 years ago, I shot up to 200 pounds. That was at Christmastime, and I had had enough of all the Santa jokes (I had a bushy beard then too). By that following summer I was down to 150. I never felt so good! I did it by eating a bowl of cereal in the morning, brown-bagging a sandwich and chips for lunch, stopping by the YMCA for an hour or so on my way home from work every day, and then eating a Weight Watcher's microwave meal for dinner. If there was to be an evening snack, it was lite microwave popcorn. My wife and I walked around Lake Calhoun often too (3 miles), and sometimes treated ourselves to TCBY. Remember them?
Arriving at 150 was the best. I had done it. Case closed. No need to diet anymore. Bring on the pizza and beer. You know what happened next. I did the classic yo-yo routine, each time gaining 10 pounds for every 5 I would lose. I started to convince myself that this is the way it is, and I should just give up the struggle.
At my heaviest, I was 215. Picture it folks, 5'5" and 215. Eww. Disgusted with myself, I joined a gym, and worked my ass (literally) off. I got down to 160 and was thrilled! That was almost 2 years ago, but the economy forced me to let the gym membership go and along with it, my motivation to shave off those last 10 pounds. Ok, realistically 160 isn't bad for a guy like me, but I was really on a roll and felt great.
Now, 185. Dammit! 25 pounds added just like that. And it's not like I have been feasting on crap food all the time. I just like snacking, and sitting.

Hmmm, active and eating right vs. snacking and sitting.

So I plan to, no I pledge to make weekly entries here, posting my current weight. I don't know who will read this or the comments that will be made, but I'm throwing it all out there to see what happens. This should motivate me to continue and see it through.