The Border Vista

Surprising news. Happy news. News that, to be fair, my body worked pretty damned hard for.

Today's weigh-in sees me at 18st 2.75. That's a loss of 3.25 pounds on last week, and overall, since we restarted, 25.25 pounds lost in what is now about eight weeks. That leaves us, number-fans, on an aggregate loss of 3.1 pounds per week. Just a smidgen ahead of what's medically advised. Happy to be a smidgen ahead, just for pure swankiness.

18st 2.75 is interesting, because I feel like I can see the border from here - the border between 17 and 18 stone, and I've always said I don't feel like I'm really Disappearing till I get into the 17s. Still feel that way, though I'll be honest with you, losing 2 stone (28 pounds) at the age of 45 has felt harder than the first time I did it at not-quite-40. But I'm not about to kid myself I've been working at it anything like as hard this time round either - the mechansims are still the same, but the process hasn't been anything like as white-hot and sweaty and 'Grrr, lemme at it!' I've approached this time round so far with a kind of older man's sense of inevitability, and a trust in the equations of energy that I've never had before - X+Y=D, where X= less food, Y=more exercise, and D=Disappearing.

Of course, it's possible that today's result owes as much to last night's debilitating stomach-cramps as it does to my somewhat dogged appraoch to food and exercise lately - but on the other hand, I was 18st 3.75 waking up yesterday, so I'm going to be a little smug and say most of the work was already done ahead of last night's distinctly hurried walk around my route.

Speaking of which, as d would say, 'it's gone suitably dark now, you can go walking!'

This is me, getting my walk on. Fewer than three pounds before we start to take this thing seriously again!