Well, 32 1/2 pounds have come off without any real effort on my part. I officially weigh 257 pounds.
I'm eating healthier, not fighting cravings, and pretty much still a bump on a log most days. James keeps my moving, but that is evened out by the need for a 12 pack of tacos from Taco Bell.
Don't ask me about that last one. I don't know why, but last month we were getting one of those a week (at least) and splitting them. Not just for lunch. We are talking about a weird craving at 9, after James was asleep, and we'd sit on the floor with the box between us watching TV.
No, we don't smoke pot. This had nothing with the munchies. It was just I HAD TO HAVE THEM NOW thing and luckily A just said go for it. He actually drove out and bought them a couple of those times and he hates driving anywhere.
I still think they are better than a Big Mac for me. But probably not.
My weight over the last 6 weeks has fluctuated within a 3 pound range, and I realized that I had hit that point where just eating right wasn't going to cut it. I'd have to burn calories. Move my body.
Exercise.
So this morning, when I opened my eyes at 7, rather than roll over and try to squeeze that extra hour of sleep in, I got up.
Oh, treadmill, I've actually missed you.
I walked 1.25 miles using the Fat Burner program on the treadmill, listening to music, and felt good. I walked back in to the apartment in the best mood, and arrived in time to see James wake up. The endorphins kept me bouncing, so I changed and fed him, all with A looking at me funny.
The plan is to keep this up, and continue to lose those 2-3 pounds a week. If I can manage that over the next 13 weeks, I will be be about 230 pounds.
Why that time frame?
Because I've decided to go to my 20 year high school reunion.
California, here I come!
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