...and considering I'm not done living it yet, that's problematic.
So, in honor of my 41st birthday last week, I've begun a "42 by 42" plan -- that is, I'm going to try to lose 42 pounds by the time I turn 42, approximately 360 days from now. Because while I'm not sick, I'm sure not living healthy. And I'd like to make the end of my life last for a long time, culminating in a brief, hilarious fall off a cliff into a tank of robot piranha, which will have been invented (and perfected) by then.
Essentially, I'll be doing a modified Weight Watchers plan (hereafter referred to as "my cult"), with a few other limits I'm imposing on myself, such as the number of times I can eat beef and pork in a give week (I'm thinking two each), and my intention to have at least one vegetarian dinner a week... without using pizza as a crutch too often, since that defeats the purpose.
I weighted in last night at 237.2 pounds (with clothes and all, but damn!), so it means I need to hit 195.2 pounds by October next.
Luckily, I just ate a delicious bowl of seaweed, so I think I'm ready.
Rob
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Today's the First Day of the End of My Life
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6 comments:
Good luck, Rob!
Good luck Dude.
As an evangelist for the things, I have to say
"Get on yer Bike!"
That's what Kathy does, all the time. She's great with it. I enjoy it, but always feel a little ridiculous on it, like an upside-down pyramid.
An upside down pyramid? Do you ride a tiny bike while wearing a huge mortar board on your head?
Honey, if the helmet doesn't make you feel ridiculous, you're better than me. Putting it on is always the last thing I do before getting on the bike. 'Cause the tights are WAY less embarrassing.
Mrs. Rob S.
Yeah, the helmet doesn't make me feel so ridiculous. Maybe because I read so many comics with people in helmets & spandex & stuff. It's the feeling like I'm a giant circus bear on a tiny little tricycle that makes me feel silly.
Youe helmet is adorable.
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