183 pounds. 4 pounds down.
I’m surprised at how the weight is zipping off. I’m encouraged, but I know the hard days are coming. You know, the ones where you want to lick the spaghetti sauce of off your friends plate because you are so danged hungry. But for now…
My son asks me what my goal is.
I just realized I don’t have one.
Honestly, it wasn’t a “number”.
My goals, improperly vague were:
* Not look like elephant man or a pork belly
* No man-boobs
* Butt looking cute (yes guys want their rears to look great)
* Feel “light” for jogging again
* GET ENERGY
* Get into a lifelong habit
Since humans have no other trigger than “feeling satiated”, I think I’ll have to count calories or points or SOMETHING the rest of my life.
If I do this right, I’ll learn to like filling foods that have modest calorie counts – then maybe I can give up keeping track.
Today, finished at 36 points. 1 point over budget, but still ok.