I came. I saw. I made it my bitch. The poor scale never stood a chance against my jogging twice a day routine. It was just a matter of time before I hopped on and the scale started waving the white flag. That day was this morning.
After a brief jog on the dreadmill and a chance to cool off, I showered and hopped on the scale. Damn thing couldn't go any higher than 179.0. And with that, Operation: Fat Bastard has come to a close.
However, I've been getting reports of other threats and Black Ops may continue. The 175.0 pound mark may need to be breached. I've got a lot of beer that needs to be enjoyed, but I might be able to semi-contain myself til Christmas. Another five pounds in two weeks sounds possible.
We'll see.
No comments:
Post a Comment