Okay, if you read the initial entry on this rather sparsely worded blog (February 27, 2010), you’ll see that I have a desire to lose weight and get in better shape — both for the health of it and because I’m as vain as the next person. This desire to become a lean, mean machine is in direct opposition to my desire to consume massive amounts of foods and beverages. You’ll also note that at the time of that posting, I weighed 244 pounds. As of this moment, I weigh 228.1 pounds — not that I’m paying close attention to such things. While it is good that I’m down a little since that day back in 2010, it is also true that at this pace I won’t reach my goal weight until sometime after I’m about 112 years old. At that point, screw it; give me the ice cream. I mean, who cares if you’re the fattest old guy in the nursing home?
Today, though, I would like to start my transformation into that thin guy that I see in my mind’s eye. I’ve dreamed of getting down to my goal weight of 172 pounds, seemingly since I was in about third grade. I’ve started and stopped and restarted and quit and got it going again so often that I wouldn’t even want to hazard a guess as to how many times the words “this time I mean it” have escaped from my lips. Well — THIS TIME I MEAN IT!!!
It must be true because I wrote it out in all capital letters.
I’ve got the charts going, the apps on my phone that do everything but perform liposuction, the support of my wife, and a newly recharged desire to make it work.
The plan is to get healthy sooner rather than later — and maintain it — until I’m 112 years old — then I’ll fatten back up and be the jolly fatso in the nursing home that everyone will think is so cute as he eats container after container of ice cream.
Salmagundi: This, That, and the Other 