“Have you weighed yourself yet? And how much do you weigh today?” my girlfriend regularly inquired in the early days of my endeavor. “Of course. I've exceeded this year's minimum again,” I reported, half-dazed and half-enthusiastic. We bought a smart scale for our home. It not only shows me that I'm overweight but also percentages of muscles, water, fat, and many other values. Some are glowing red because they're abnormal. I see a few in blue, which are below average. The scale even calculates a metabolic age, which turned out to be seven years older than reality. I don't know what that indicator means or how it's calculated, but that value definitely irritated me.
On January 1, 2021, I weighed 123.2 kilograms. That's 39.5 kilograms more than I should have. My goal is clear. Through normalizing my eating habits, I want to lose forty kilograms of my weight. It won't be in a year or even two. It will be a long-term project that won't be easy to sustain. I've eaten my way to this weight over thirty years, so I need to give my body a chance to use up the reserves. The era of plenty is over; it's time to tighten our belts, as politicians would say.
The lowest weight I remember is just above 108 kilograms. It's a few years back, and it's also my first goal to achieve. I'm not setting a time frame. Once I reach that weight, I'll balance caloric intake with expenditure for a short period.
Although I weigh myself daily, I don't dwell on the number on the scale. I often have the same weight for several consecutive days. I average the recorded values over weeks and months. While in January, I averaged 120.9 kilograms, in February, it was 119.1. I'm surprised by the results. Considering how little I've changed my eating habits, a four-kilogram drop from my initial weigh-in seems like a very good outcome.
It didn't come without stumbling blocks. I had my birthday in January and received a cake. Of course, I couldn't resist and contributed to its consumption. Despite the COVID-19 restrictions, I met up with some friends, where I had another opportunity to indulge. “Please, don't tell them anything,“ I implored my girlfriend, who usually accompanied me. I didn't want to be the center of attention or the subject of curious questions.
I've found that once I have an established routine, it's easy to stick to it every day. However, after each celebration or slip-up, it's challenging to get back on track with the caloric deficit path. Repeating the facts helps me. I am overweight. My weight corresponds to the second-degree obesity. And I still have more than thirty-five kilograms to shed.
But I know why I'm doing this. It makes sense.