A Slave to the Scale

withingsDon’t be.

That’s me telling myself that. I just stepped on the bathroom scale and while I anticipated a drop of two pounds, I saw instead a gain of more than three.

I couldn’t help feel bad initially, but I quickly ran through this list of achievements:

1) I’m comfortably wearing size 33×34 jeans, which is one size better than when I wrote this: “When your waist is equal to or less than your inseam.”.

3) I enjoyed a huge fajita last night that was made mostly of veggies.  And damn it was satisfying to eat, but it is probably sitting like a 2-pound rock in my gut right now.

4) I have lost 30 lbs. since last October. *mic drop*

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Haunted by bullying

at-11Would you believe I’m being bullied? Me. Now.

I’m decades past being that fat kid with the big smile pictured on the left, but it happened. And I figure if it’s happening to me – now standing six feet, six inches tall and at a very healthy weight – then I may always have to deal with it.

I know I’m overreacting. The incident that has me writing really is just a small matter. I was working out at the local gym. It’s usually pretty crowded in the free weight room. There’s usually a good mix of ages. Among them was a trio of men training together. They’re about 5 years older than me. I’ve seen them before. They’re loud and seem to always have a good time. One guy looks like a grey haired Fred Flintstone. Continue reading