I got done with my lunch ride today—not a good idea when it is 98 degrees, humid, no appreciable wind, and full sun—and stepped on the scale.  The number staring back at me was 198.0 pounds.

I almost fell off the scale, but took a step back and reset the scale.  It read 198.0 the second time so I took it as fact.  It is the first time in over a decade that a 1 has been the first number in my weight.

About a year ago I weight a little over 223 pounds and a picture of me with my daughter made me get serious about losing weight.  I did not want to be a middle aged fat dad watching my daughter and son run around.

I also did not want to lose the weight cheaply with fad diets or starvation or pills.  I chose to modify my eating and concentrate on working out.  A lot of working out.  Between the treadmill, rowing machine, and bike I am working out an average of six days per week with those workouts averaging slightly more than an hour per session.

It feels like a real victory.  I know weight should not be the determining factor in one’s fitness program and it is not for me anymore, but I like breaking through barriers.


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