All of these things have one thing in common:
A suitcase, packed to the gills.
That big bag of dog food that’s a struggle to get in the house.
Six gallons of water… six.
They all weigh 50 pounds.
They all represent the amount of weight I’ve now lost. Continue reading “Meaningful Changes”
First Things First
At just over one month into this process, I’m down 25 pounds and I feel great! I’m getting into a groove… and by groove I mean routine. While my plan is for this routine becoming a way of life, I need to make sure it doesn’t cause me to become complacent. Eating much better and exercising is transforming the way I feel and the focus I have. It’s pretty cool. I have more energy than before and I feel as if I’m in a better mood more often. However, it appears as if I’ve hit my first obstacle.
Continue reading “Success & Roadblocks”
I’m not a chef, but I know what I like… and I LOVE CHILI!
My wife found a recipe for chili online that I really, really like and I want to share my version of it with the world. I feel extremely selfish that mine are the only tastebuds fortunate enough to have been blessed by the flavors you’re about to experience.
Continue reading “Chili: Sweet & Hot”
Seven Days in and I’m Down 10 Pounds!
As cheesy as it sounds, I feel different already. I may be getting ahead of myself a bit, but this feels different that any other “diet” or “fitness thing” I’ve tried before. The main difference is my mindset…
Continue reading “It’s Been… One Week”
What in THE HELL did I do?
How did I get here?
I ate… a lot.
Not long ago I had an epiphany. I eat every meal like it’s a special occasion.
You know that feeling you get when you’re out to dinner for your birthday or an anniversary? That one meal your family makes and you all look forward to? Thanksgiving dinner? The anticipation before the meal. Having a little more than you probably should. Indulging until you’re uncomfortably full. I eat every meal this way. All of them.
The result of having done this for years is that it has now become my normal. This is what I’m used to, and not having a large meal every time I eat feels inadequate, almost like I’m doing myself a disservice. Logically I know this is super-backward and not all all true, but, more often than not, another helping sure does seem like the right thing to do.
This week I declined an invitation to play soccer with my daughter. Because I’m so out of shape I was terrified that I’d be an embarrassment to my kid. This is, easily, the single-most humiliating thing that I’ve ever experienced*.
I honestly don’t care what I weigh and I’m not terribly concerned with what I look like, but having to miss out on making a memory with one of my children because I’ve failed to take care of myself isn’t something that I’m willing to have become “normal” for me. Continue reading “Percentages and Happiness”