I’m into the third week of this running thing. Overall, it’s going well.

And not just the kind of “I don’t feel like I’m going to die as quickly now as I did when I started” kind of well.

It wasn’t much of a thought when I started, although I knew in the back of my mind that I would probably drop some weight once I got into this a little bit. But after last Wednesday’s run — and only because I accidentally dropped a pile of dirty clothes next to the damn thing — I stepped on the scale we keep in the bedroom.

For the last few years, my weight has settled in around 255. Way too much, yes, but, hey, at least it’s been consistent.

On Wednesday? 242. This morning? 239.



  1. Can you start dragging my husband with you? We’re currently at the Portion Control and Eat Healthy phase of his lifestyle changes, and it all goes out the window if I’m not in his back pocket. He needs the Exercise More phase to kick in, and soon.

    Congrats and keep it up… or down, I guess.


  2. And guess how much easier running gets when there is less to carry? It’s a beautiful thing!

    I’m proud of you, friend. Very proud of you. Keep rockin’!


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