Earlier this summer, my weight loss plateaued at 214 lbs. Last Sunday, I got on the scale and…223.
Of course, it’s all my fault. Too many Popeye’s Chicken dinners, too many Sunday steaks, too many Friday night and Saturday night carbo-loading dinners. Also, not as much water as I should be drinking.
Oh, look…another piece to the puzzle why my performance has been so lacking of late. It’s kind of hard to execute any kind of running strategy or set the pace you want when you’re packing on a bunch of extra pounds.
So, I will be going into Marine Corps Marathon weekend with a little bit more gut and a little less speed. Of course, the goal will be to finish, and not just lean on a bunch of excuses why my running sucked so much in 2019.
More serious runners would blanch at my diet over the past two months…and they would be right. Of course, it’s a little too late to change course over the next two weeks.
Despite the baggage, I’m still okay. My limbs and ligaments are still intact, and my knee sleeves should keep my shinbones safe and sound come MCM day. Not quite in the optimum shape I could be, but I believe I’ll live to tell the tale.
Song of the Day: Weird Al Yankovic/”Fat:” Okay, my weight has been MUCH worse, but the song kinda fits…