The Enemy Sucks Today

When I was in college, I weighed about 165 (I’m 6’1”).  I was always a skinny guy until around age 28.  At one point, I peaked out in the 235 range and was referred to as FOB (“fat older Brad.”)  I looked like a bowling pin and didn’t like it very much (although Amy would say things like “I love you no matter what.”)  So I started running.  Marathons.  I’ve done eight of them and am on a quest to do one in every state by the time I turn 50. 

For the Chicago Marathon, which I did in 4:05 in 2003, I got down to 192 pounds.  That felt great and about right for me.  My weight has fluctuated plenty since then although it usually levels out around 205.

I’ve had a hard time running the past two months.  Endless travel, lots of late nights, constant business dinners, and a cold that I just can’t seem to shake.  I also haven’t paid much attention to what I’ve been putting in my mouth – I’ve been eating whatever is in front of me.

Today the enemy (my scale) said 220.0.  It’s been gradually creeping up from the 215 that I started the year at.  After snarling at the enemy, I decided that 220.0 is as high as I am going to see for a long long time.  I know the trick to losing weight is simple – “eat less, exercise more.”  Done.