(37M, 6’0”, SW: 245, CW: 222, GW: ???)
I’ve been trying to get into shape and lose weight for years. If you go back far enough in my post history, you’ll see I’ve posted here going back as far as four or five years. Like clockwork, I’ll have a bit of success initially and lose 15-20 pounds, hit a plateau, get discouraged, come here for help, and then people start telling me to count calories.
But I can’t count calories, because I’m a special little daffodil…
(There were many excuses, but that’s really what it boiled down to.)
Just like every weight loss attempt in the past, I had some initial success this time, but then I got stuck somewhere between 223.5 and 225. So what did I do? Did I start counting calories? Fuck no! I worked out harder! I started exercising harder and more often than I ever have in my life! And what happened to that number on the scale? Not a damn thing. For six weeks, the number on the scale has continued to float between 223.5 and 225. And my body is paying the price. My muscles and joints are utterly beat to shit right now. I hurt. ALL. THE. TIME.
Then last week, in a last ditch effort to save my weight loss plan, I finally gave in and decided to start counting calories. I bought a little journal to log everything. I got a digital food scale to get all official with it. That’s when I discovered that the burritos I’ve been making for myself lately are clocking in at close to 1000 calories each. I had been eating four of them a day.
[shocked Pikachu face]
So I revamped everything, logged my food and beverages as best as I could, and decided I’d give it a couple of weeks. It’s been five days since I started counting, and five days since my previous weigh-in. I just hopped on the scale, and I’ve lost a pound and a half in five days.
[another shocked Pikachu face]
Y’all, count your damn calories. I know it isn’t fun, but it fucking works. Stop complaining and start counting.
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