A summer of great food and drinks has left me to weighing more than I ever have before.  A whopping two hundred and thirty pounds in fact.  Two hundred and thirty pounds doesn’t quite fit right on my five-ten frame…unless you’re into big bellies and fat faces that is.  Add to that I’m closing on the half century mark, it was time I did something to reverse the tide a little bit.  So, with all that being said, in early September, Amanda Leigh and I went with a low carb diet.  I won’t say straight up keto, cuz that shit bores me so much, I’d be done with it in a week. 

Actually I don’t even wanna say “diet”, more like a bit of a lifestyle change.  I’m a pizza (almost every day for lunch), chips (almost every evening) and fast-food junkie.  Add to that weekend beers, and you’ve got yourself the perfect recipe for fat fuckatude.  Speaking of those beers, I’ve also majorly cut those, and other boozes, from my diet. 

I’m only three weeks in and I’m down a respectable five pounds so far, with a goal of  thirty to fourty overall.  With any luck (or my natural stubbornness and a bone deep loathing of wasting my time), I’ll get through Halloween and Thanksgiving, without falling off the wagon too much.  Christmas….well all bets may be off for that….we shall see.  

Do I think whoever is reading this, really cares?  Nah.  Of course you don’t.  Everyone and their dog (Fido you chubby bastard) posts “My weight loss journey” stories on social media every day.  This is my way of holding myself at least a little accountable.  It’s a “if it’s not in print, I don’t gotta stick to it” kinda thing.

Will I ever have abs of steel.  Not a chance.  Jesus…I weighed as little as 170 pounds in my early thirties and still had a squishy belly.  I just wanna look halfway decent in jeans and t-shirt and maybe extend my life a couple of years.  I mean shit, there’s a lot of Marvel and Star Wars movies left to watch.