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.