terrified at what was staring back at me. Somehow the 181 pound
marathon runner had turned into 197 pound of gut. Maybe it was the
orders of French fries I haven't been passing up, maybe it's all those
IPA's I've been downing or maybe it's just the fact that I am getting
old but this slide had to stop. On Sunday I decided it was time for
a good old diet. No more bread before dinner, no more snacks of
cheese at 9pm, no more lemonade and no more hamburgers with fries.
So for the foreseeable future, I will be chewing down on celery
sticks, drinking light beer if I'm going to indulge and strapping my
running shoes on and getting back on the road more often than once or
twice per week
Yeah, life is about to really suck
2 comments:
Welcome to the land of tub and guts. Don't leave so fast!
Give it a shot. You'll find that you like it here. No judgment, no body torture, no restraint, and no cravings. And lots of ESPN.
Okay, that slob in the photo is kind of totally gross, though.
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