One. Nine. Three. (and a half)

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Fifteen days ago I weighed 201 pounds, and wrote a blog stating my desire to do something about it.

Weighed myself this morning: 193 1/2 pounds.

I’m thrilled! Elated! When I penned that initial post, it was in the immediate aftermath of a camping trip to Carmel, N.Y. There were Oreos and chocolate chip cookies and chips and marshmallows, and I, semi-literally, never … stopped … eating. I took and took and took, piling hundreds of calories into my body in a single (largely forgettable) gulp. I was drinking soda and juice, just pigging out out of some habitual need to eat.

Since then, I’ve worked on changing my thinking. With rare exception, there has been no snacking, save for fruits and vegetables. I haven’t touched a non-diet soda (and relatively little soda at all), instead going with water or iced coffee (one packet of sugar and some non-fat milk). I’m still eating full meals (this morning I had a bowl of Raisin Bran; for lunch I’ll have a salad and the side piece of bread), but I’ve mostly stopped living off of crap. (My wonderful wife said this early on: “If you just stop eating desert foods, you’ll see a huge difference.” Love that woman).

I’m not 100% sure that I feel better, in that magic way dieters speak of. But I feel better that I’m lighter and healthier, if that makes sense. I’m decreasingly tempted by the siren call of the Starbucks snack display—400-calorie, fat-stuffed slabs of pound cake that go down fast and offer fleeting glee.

Will this last? I think. I hope. If nothing else, it’s given me a new goal—and a new feeling of accomplishment.

My goal? 185.

4 thoughts on “One. Nine. Three. (and a half)”

  1. Jeff — Keep it up, we have similar situations. I had back surgery two years ago (blown disc). I healed up and just got tired of excuses I served up to myself. I’ve gone from 180 at Halloween to 157 today. Still working at it, and I am sore every day from working out, and hungry every night as I know I don’t need to eat after a sensible dinner. Portion control and exercise works — period. And Jacob should not obsess with the scale. Watch how your clothes fit as the second part. And set a goal — it helps.

  2. Try this: think like the French. Firstly, and foremostly of sex and wine and strong coffee, just the thinking of which burns rather exquisite calories. And then keep in mind the french term for being hungry, ‘J’ai faim.'” I ‘have’ hunger rather than the english I’m hungry. In the french you have a bit of hunger, you eat a bit, and then you no longer Have it, and you go on to do other things, hopefully involving wine and sex. The english term allows for a whole state of being, Hungry, and in being that, paramount to all other states of Being, you Consume, the act pertaining to the entity, and since we certainly don’t want to stop Being -in that bigger and eternal sense- then we embrace the act as it validate the entity. And in such Being you necessarily become Blimpy. Rather, have and then have not. And stick to libation, libido and adrenaline to fill that hole inside you, not baked goods.

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