For the last few years, I thought I was at the weight where I'd stay for the rest of my life. I could not get under 160 and was often closer to 165, and I am not nearly tall enough or broad enough to carry that much weight. When I started my diet six weeks ago I weighed 161. Today I am at 151. It's sort of miraculous to me, to be going in the right direction for a change, staying the course and getting closer to a goal. If I were very ambitious, I'd head for 140, but I'd be thrilled to make it to 145. Thrilled. I'm already thrilled, in truth, to have lost ten pounds.
The first time I went on the Slim-Fast diet, about a dozen years ago, I weighed a staggering 175. I was sitting in the Oakland Coliseum Arena before a Warrior basketball game, waiting for my friend Barry to show up, when I first felt the roll of blubber around my middle as an entity unto itself. It was physically uncomfortable for me to sit in the seat, and the more I thought about it the worse it seemed.
I never looked back. I lost seven pounds the first week and never saw 175 again. I got down to 140 and stayed there a while before creeping back up to 150. That was okay, and I maintained that weight for several years. Three or four years ago, around holiday time, I went berserk. Stopped caring about what I ate or how much I exercised and added those ten pounds that have been so hard to lose.
Now that I'm back on track, I intend to stay there. That's easy to say, I know, but life is so much better when you can sit down without feeling as if an extra person has just flopped onto your lap out of nowhere. That's what got me started dieting again, and remembering it is what will keep me going.