The number on the scale continues to tick down, granted at a much slower rate than before. The clothes I once loved, fit me like potato sacks. Yet most days I still feel like the 450 pound guy who started walking 30 minutes a day in January 2020 to prepare for a family trip to DisneyWorld.
But not today, today my weight loss felt real.
It was sophomore year of high school the last time I let peer pressure force me to squeeze into a booth. Since then, “No booth, please.” has been my shameful addition to every host interaction. At a certain point my younger sister began saying it just to spare me the humiliation.
Today for the first time in a year I went to lunch, fully immunized I figured it was time. “Table for 3. No booth, please.” My sister said the default script out of instinct, I shamefully averted my eyes and followed the hostess. After a few steps something clicked. “Actually a booth will be okay.”
I wanted to post the picture I took, but honestly just can’t bring myself to do it.
210 pounds down and still working towards my goals. But today really showed me that the scale isn’t all that matters, the things I’ll be able to experience again.. I can’t wait.
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