An ad for a Wendy's Frosty (capitalized out of respect) motivated me to write this post. I saw it today, and immediately wanted to go get one. I didn't.
So, I should be happy about my restraint, right? No, not really. I mean, I really wanted it. I was lusting for it. Like Jesus said, if you lust after it, it's the same as doing it. So, sin committed, I should have got off my butt and driven down to Wendy's.
I don't really have a love affair with Wendy's. I do recall that after I finished my final final exam at Vanderbilt, I celebrated the end of my formal education by going to Wendy's, eating a triple cheeseburger, and then going back to my apartment and sleeping for 24 hours. But, when it comes to fast food I'm more of a McDonald's person. I especially like the salads. Just like I especially like the interviews in Playboy.
I'm weighing in just under 200 pounds now. Actually, I'm weighing in at just under 89 kilograms, having switched the scale to kilograms because double digits were more appealing than triple (there's that triple thing again). The downside of kilograms is that it's twice as hard to lose 1 kilogram compared to a pound.
Back in 1992, which I would consider my running prime, I typically weighed around 180. If I was really putting in the miles and eschewing the calories, I could get down to the high 160s.
So today I'm carrying around an extra 20 pounds. The obvious analogy is that I'm carrying a bowling ball around my stomach (and I would guess that most of my extra weight is in my stomach). It can't be good for my running. Or my knees.
My goal then for the rest of September and October is to lose 10 pounds, and get my weight down to about 85 kilograms. I'm going to start my diet in earnest tomorrow. Then I'm going to take a break on Saturday for my birthday, then I'm going to start again on Sunday.
Until then, I'll see you at Wendy's!
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