First step is admitting I eat to much. I do. Weighing 200 pounds, is wrong. Period. You can fight and argue all you want, but there always comes a time when, you just want to drop the weight. I don't plan on getting the 50 pounds off in two months. Hell, I don't even plan on getting them off in 4 months. I do plan on learning to eat right, control myself and stop making excuses.
I got married. I was happy. I got comfortable and then, then I noticed I was fat. Amazing how I really never noticed it before, until, right there staring back at me, was this fat girl. It was odd. For some reason, I closed my eyes, rubbed them good, opened them up, as if by magic this fat girl would be gone. Alas, she wasn't. She was still there. Mocking me. With her double chin, chubbed cheeks and rolled up arms.
Where did I go wrong? Well, eating pizza all the time doesn't help. Having a disgusting love for cakes and cookies, didn't help either. So standing at 5 feet 5 inches, I weighed myself. Of course, alone and undressed. Can't have any of that "extra" weight weighing me down (pun intended). 195lbs. Even.
So this is my journal of my mission to drop the horrid 50 pounds. From here on, I hope to only report losses!