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.