Weight...Oh! Gone...

I was cleaning house over the weekend and decided to get rid of some of the junk that has been accumulating. I wanted to start small - something I could do in a day. Something I could accomplish like the SMART goals I use to have to make for work. (SMART goals are specific (S), measurable (M), attainable (A), relevant (R), and timely (T) see SMART goals for more information.)

I decided to start with the medicine cabinet and the cabinet in the bathroom. You know the places - the one where all those travel-size bottles of shower gel and body lotion accumulate. The place where that jumbo, bargain bottle of Advil expires because you don't have enough headaches to use it all.

I found tons of that stuff. Some of it pushed to the back of the cabinet, sitting there since I moved in. In the process I decided to actually weigh the amount of junk I was getting rid of. That totaled nine pounds! That felt great; purging nine pounds of clutter. Now I actually have room in the cabinet to store my blow-dryer, combs, assorted hair accessories, etc.

So I stood there looking at the bathroom scale. Stood there in the shorts that I almost had an "America's Funniest Home Video" moment in while walking to the corner store. Shorts that, last summer were too tight, but now I can take off without unzipping. Should I? Should I step on that scale?

Looking at the picture below you could see why I would not want to step on the scale.


Holy freakin' dog-mess batman! Is that me?

Yes. Yes, it is. This picture was taken a few years ago. My niece, who is now 6, was using the high-chair in the background. But...still...it probably wasn't too different from what I was seeing in the mirror six months ago.

Six months ago. Before I was riding my bike at least 4.4 miles a day, five days a week in order to get to work. Before I decided to cut all refined sugar and flour products from my life. Before I decided to eat mostly veggies, fruit and protein.

So, while holding my shorts up, I stepped on the scale. Thirty pounds. Gone. From me.

And nine pounds of baggage. Stuff I didn't need. Stuff I didn't even want anymore.

Thirty-nine pounds of junk that could never make me happy. Thirty-nine pounds of "fat" that only made me unhappy.

Now I just have to keep it up. Keep up both kinds of weight loss.