I started to type “I’ve been overweight my entire adult life,” but that’s not true. I was in phenomenal shape when I was selling cars, and for the first year I was at Intergraph. I weighed 165 pounds.
I haven’t quite doubled that, thank God, but I did record a 310 yesterday.
I’ve blogged so many times about losing weight and then not done it, and I’m not going to go on and on now. I have an interesting motivation this time, though—one I think may well stick. Heart disease and diabetes risks finally hitting home? No. Tired of feeling and looking bad? Yes, I am, but that’s not the impetus. Ready to wear the massive wardrobe you can lose weight through for the next two years? Yes, but ditto.
It has been the horrifying realization that at my current size, I am likely ineligible to ride most of the roller coasters at Busch Gardens. And we’re going to Busch Gardens this year.
What kind of shit is that, Bo? You can’t be bothered to literally add years to your life and feel better, but the thought of losing a thrill ride or two clicks you over?
Yup. Dunno. Not gonna dig too deep into it. Just gonna try to keep the fire stoked.
Maybe I’ll track my progress on a blog sidebar. Haven’t decided yet.