I'm not counting my chickens before they're hatched or anything, but I've lost 17 pounds, and only have those last three to go. I'm hoping some time in June or maybe early July, I'll cross the finish line and have "completed" my race. I sort of plateaued a month or two ago...suffering from campaign fatigue or something. It's a pain in the ass always watching what you eat. I had a sinus infection, and it sucked trying to run on the treadmill...but then my company started a "Wellness Initiative" so it was sort of a good excuse for me to get back on the wagon...or...treadmill.
The challenge is as simple as reaching walking milestones (as measured with a pedometer) over a 49 day period. Each milestone has a different prize associated with it, and a nice backpack was my goal prize. In order to reach it, I only had to get 10,600 steps per day.
That seems like a lot, and it sort of is...but pretty attainable. What makes it "nice" is that they recommend you should get about 10,000 steps per day to stay healthy, and this sort of requires that I verify that daily (if I want that backpack).
I've been really good about getting my steps in and mostly good about watching what I eat, but I found that if I don't get on the treadmill every night, I end up averaging about 6-7,000 steps per day even if I walk a mile with a coworker. So every night, sometimes as late as 10:30 or 11, I hop on the treadmill to get those last two or three thousand steps, and...I've been losing weight.
But I'm not getting any smarter. The night before last I was getting ready to go into the basement to get on the treadmill. It was late. I just needed a couple thousand more steps and I could be done. I made down the stairs and realized I'd worn my walking/running shoes to the Pirate game the day before, and they weren't downstairs.
This is what I don't get about me...instead of going back upstairs to get the shoes, I elected to walk in my slippers. That's sort of a stupid move regardless, but the irony is, the reason I was walking was to get my steps in...and the reason I didn't want to go upstairs to get them is because...it was too many steps.
|My slippers. Also, Barney.|
That's how I'd write it up in a story, because you know I love me some delicious, delicious irony. So...man refuses to walk up the steps to get his shoes to finish his steps for the day, and loses the ability to meet his goal because of the blister that resulted. The end.
But I'm fine. I just have blister. I'll keep on keepin' on.