At the first of the year, Jay and I fixed our resolutions in our minds. I decided upon a goal to lose weight, both for vanity and to help increase my running speed. He planned to kick tobacco to the curb. We each lasted about a week before realizing our spirits were willing but our flesh was weak.
Being happy with ourselves just the way we are also lasted about a week, until we realized that his yo-yo dipping and my freestyle diet landed us both at our heaviest weights ever. Neither of us are tipping the scales into obesity, but we both carry around more fat than we should. Let’s face it, we ain’t getting any younger. As 30-somethings, its all downhill from here (at least health and weight speaking).
For the first couple of weeks, he and I could stand to lose 2% of our body weight. He’s a dude and he weighs more, but I’ve dieted enough to know I can lose a few pounds of bloat the first few weeks in addition to (hopefully) fat.
I did great all week, tracking in MyFitnessPal daily. That is until my arch nemesis the weekend showed up. My 18 miler from Saturday morning spotted me 1600+ calories when we went out to dinner with some clients/friends, and I used every bit of them.
Then there was Sunday. My sabbath day of rest. Who’s bright idea was it to rest on Super Bowl Sunday? Between an excess of calories and food choices only encouraging bloat, my hard work from the week failed to register on the scale.
I only lost a pound.
Normally someone barely overweight by BMI standards would celebrate a pound in a week. Unfortunately, however, I needed a 3 pound loss in order to hit my 2% goal. Now that I type it out, the goal seems far fetched and ridiculous, but I swear I thought it was doable when I originally agreed to the terms of the wager.
The first week’s numbers are in, and I lost. Not only a pound, but also the bet. Using some of the same tools boxers and wrestlers use to make weight, Jay was able to lose his 2% despite my lackluster showing.
As a result, I can’t darken the door of a liquor store for the month of February, and I can kiss that $60 shopping excursion for new work pants good-bye. Now a new week has begun, with new terms set. I know my competition a bit better, and don’t want to have to fold his laundry for a month. Here’s hoping I can get back on track hit my goal next week!!