Public pants-dropping to force myself and my family to all eat healthier. 42 yo and for the first time ever i’m confronting an extra 10lbs I’m  unable to simply shake away.  The reality of reality is bitch-slapping me like my dui. It could be worse.  Its actually not bad at all. I am reaching back to that nugget or certainty to find willpower when i crave doritos.  The zip code of the goal has never been out of sight; i have never entered the Pain Cave. I have no excuses now that work doesn’t have free pb&j samiches anymore.

Beckie and G are eager participants. My support group.

3 lbs down this week, and for the first time in ~3 years there is no question in my mind how this will end. 3 days ago my body turned a corner and told me that it wanted what I wanted it to want. This is not addiction, its just the wrong kind of comfort. Me and the bod are working through it together.  Can’t wait to see my 6-pack again.