Failing Better

Friends,

Ah, another month and another weight goal missed. What's funny is that I know what causes me to miss these goals. Beer and bad food. Happens every time.

But, here's the thing, I don't feel that bad about missing the weight goal this time.

Yesterday, I got up and rushed to the scale because I thought it was the day I had to report my weight. It read 243.4, making it 5.6 pounds lost for the month. It was fabulous. Then, I didn't work out yesterday (didn't have the time and had this strange disorienting headache spell) and ate a lot of doughy stuff, which probably didn't do me any favors, and had some late night popcorn as I watched The Breakfast Club on DVD.

Today, I get up, weigh myself...246.0. Fuck. Did I really gain 2.6 pounds in one day? No way that serving of vegetarian pasty from Teddywedgers and those pieces of hot and spicy cheese bread from Stella's Bakery (which by the way had little to no cheese in it) caused this. In less than 24 hours, too? Jesus, that doesn't seem possible at all. So while I'm going to say my weight is 246.0 because that's what the scale said, in no way do I feel like I missed the goal.

Also, to be honest, it's getting to the point where I have to at least consider how much weight my extra skin is contributing to my weight. It's starting to collect in places, around my belly button, inner thighs and armpits, like a bread dough scrunchy. And that extra skin, while weight, isn't fat weight, and if I could somehow chop it off, I would probably be down around 3 pounds, I guess, maybe more. So while the scale says I weight 246.0 this morning, subtract the skin weight, well, I'm down to 243 again, maybe lower. However, because I have no way of knowing exactly how much my excess skin weighs, I'm still going to report my weight this month as 246.0. I still have a long way to go before corrective skin removal surgery would be needed (or afforded) by me.

But, so it goes, I failed the weight loss. Either on account of a fucked up scale, a legendarily weight gain or just plain bad luck. However, weight was still lost and today, I'm working out again. Just got to keep on keeping on.

Oh, and Mr. Electronic Scale...here's to you, asshole. Three barrels! Take that, fucker.

viva el mustache