When I got married in '92 I weighted about 80 kg (176 lbs) (I'm 1.77m tall [5'-10"], and was 27 years old at the time... which is also 27 years old in imperial units ). I didn't exercise but I was fine because my job demanded that I often walked considerable distances. Unfortunately, as the years went on I began to walk less and less and the weight began to creep on me at such a slow pace that I didn't notice, because I was not in the habit of weighting myself regularly.
After I turned 35 I finally gathered the courage to climb on to the scale, and found out that I weighted 83 Kg (183 lbs)... not too bad, considering that I had been married for seven years and that I was still not exercising. I looked a little "cheeky", but that was ok because I had a gorgeous wife that was stark raving mad about me...
Anyway, a few more years passed, and one day my beautiful other half gathered enough courage to tell me that I was "no longer slim" ... that really hurt... so I climbed the scale again, and got the awful news that I was now entering the realm of 90 kg (198 lbs) !!!
No way, José... I had never before in my life been a fat-so, and I was never, ever going to accept myself as one. So I prepared myself mentally (that is, I gathered the strength of will to accept the fact that things were about to get uncomfortable... but for a greater good), and began to count each and every single calorie that entered my mouth; recording every ingestion event into an Excel sheet that kept track of my meals, snacks and drinks. All this with the goal of never ingesting more than 1,300 calories per day. And it worked.
After the first couple of months, I had already lost more than 7 kg (15 lbs), and looked (and felt) the hell of a lot better (at least according to wifey). That's when I decided to ignite the afterburners and boost my metabolism by doing the unthinkable: I began to run for health and exercise purposes.
Running had always seemed kind of idiotic to me back then... what's a guy got to win by going in a rush with the goal of returning to the same place that he actually departed from a few moments before? But I didn't have a choice. I'm not a member of any country club where I can go and play golf at ease, or play tennis or swim for sport or my entertainment. And I was not in the mood (nor had the resources) to invest a considerable amount of money into something that also required monthly payments... there's the street out there, buddy... make good use of it.
So I spent around 70 bucks in a decent pair of shoes, and hit the pavement.
The first few weeks were excruciating! I was not only short of breath, but also had to suffer terrible heat, and I hated the feeling of a sweaty, stinky body... but I kept at it anyway.
Then it occurred to me to buy an MP3 player, and load it with the best motivational music I could find. Which was mainly movie soundtracks, Beatles music, and a few fast-paced rock and roll, and country tunes. That made an important difference...
It wasn't before a couple of more months had passed that I noticed something new. I was actually beginning to enjoy this exercise thing! ... I went to bed every night looking forward the next morning so I could hit the road and de-stress myself for a few minutes. I was now in the habit of jogging 7.5 km (5 miles) every day, except on Sundays. And I was feeling as good and as awake since my teen years!
One day I realized I had omitted an important activity. I had not weighted myself in a long, long time... so I again climbed the scale... and my jaw dropped to the floor when I read the numbers being displayed... seven, three... I had lost more than 17 kg (37 lbs) since I started my little quest... and was more than well into my dad's (he was a doctor) recommended weight range.
Then something happened, and it was not a good thing. I became obsessed with my weight, and challenged myself to weight less and less every day... see how low I could get. So I began to effectively starve myself, some days eating no more than 600 calories. And climbed the scale constantly to watch my progress.
That obsession ended the pitiful day in which I climbed the scale, and learned that I now weighted 67.3 kg (148 lbs) ... my wife couldn't take it anymore, and had a deep and long talk with me, telling me that I didn't look "lanky" as I thought I did, but rather that I looked gaunt and sick instead. And she asked me to stop doing what I was doing because it was going to end badly, and I was only going to ruin my health... and I understood and agreed with her... I no longer felt as good, nor had the energy that I used to feel in my best days. I learned something new about my own character that day.
So I relaxed my ways a bit, and went back to eating more normal. Even allowing myself a few drinks and dessert every once in a while. I stayed that way for quite a few years, always weighing between 74 and 76 kg (163-167 lbs). Which was more than fine for someone my complexion.
Anyway, to make a long story short, that spell ended when I hurt my shoulder about four years ago. I was hurting so bad that I could hardly move my arm for months. I could not raise it to grab things that were above my head, nor I could even scratch my own back with that limb when I felt the urge. It hurt so much that it even bothered me when I exercised and my body did the normal bouncing up and down when I tried to jog. And so I stopped exercising, waiting to get better so I could start running at a later time, when the pain subsided.
And the pain did subside after nine moths, more or less. But by then I had gone lazy, and was again eating and drinking without restriction... and up went the weight once more... I was again overweight. The scale read 88 kg ...
I've had enough. I've made a plan again, and I've set myself the goal of eating 1,300 calories a day tops. I started on January the 1st, and will keep this rhythm until April the 1st. I don't care how much I weight on the final day. All I'm focusing now is on eating healthy, and controlling my appetite. And I've been mostly successful. This because, other than the calories, my restrictions include zero alcohol, zero processed sugars, and zero stand-alone bread and wheat products... I do eat a sandwich or a hamburger every now and then though. Just as long as I don't exceed my daily calorie quota.
My strategy has been to eat only twice a day. I eat a "brunch" of about 300-350 calories at around 10 in the morning (I work mostly from home), and then I consume nothing until about six in the afternoon. At that time I eat a hearty meal of about 800 to 900 calories. Then I allow myself a small snack an hour or two before bedtime, and I hit the sack at 10:45 p.m. Give or take 15 minutes.
I'm climbing the scale every ten days or so. Weighing myself on the days that end up with the number 9.
These are my results so far:
I have now lost more than 5 kg (11 lbs) since I got started, and all during a period of less than five weeks. And I look and feel the hell of a lot better. I feel lighter, and have more energy than before... how could I forget how being healthy felt like? ...
Anyone who cares to join this thread and share his/her experiences is very welcome to. We all have different reasons and motivations for maintaining our weight within reasonable limits. It can be health, physical performance, or even vanity. It doesn't matter. Not being fat is always a good thing.
After I turned 35 I finally gathered the courage to climb on to the scale, and found out that I weighted 83 Kg (183 lbs)... not too bad, considering that I had been married for seven years and that I was still not exercising. I looked a little "cheeky", but that was ok because I had a gorgeous wife that was stark raving mad about me...
Anyway, a few more years passed, and one day my beautiful other half gathered enough courage to tell me that I was "no longer slim" ... that really hurt... so I climbed the scale again, and got the awful news that I was now entering the realm of 90 kg (198 lbs) !!!
No way, José... I had never before in my life been a fat-so, and I was never, ever going to accept myself as one. So I prepared myself mentally (that is, I gathered the strength of will to accept the fact that things were about to get uncomfortable... but for a greater good), and began to count each and every single calorie that entered my mouth; recording every ingestion event into an Excel sheet that kept track of my meals, snacks and drinks. All this with the goal of never ingesting more than 1,300 calories per day. And it worked.
After the first couple of months, I had already lost more than 7 kg (15 lbs), and looked (and felt) the hell of a lot better (at least according to wifey). That's when I decided to ignite the afterburners and boost my metabolism by doing the unthinkable: I began to run for health and exercise purposes.
Running had always seemed kind of idiotic to me back then... what's a guy got to win by going in a rush with the goal of returning to the same place that he actually departed from a few moments before? But I didn't have a choice. I'm not a member of any country club where I can go and play golf at ease, or play tennis or swim for sport or my entertainment. And I was not in the mood (nor had the resources) to invest a considerable amount of money into something that also required monthly payments... there's the street out there, buddy... make good use of it.
So I spent around 70 bucks in a decent pair of shoes, and hit the pavement.
The first few weeks were excruciating! I was not only short of breath, but also had to suffer terrible heat, and I hated the feeling of a sweaty, stinky body... but I kept at it anyway.
Then it occurred to me to buy an MP3 player, and load it with the best motivational music I could find. Which was mainly movie soundtracks, Beatles music, and a few fast-paced rock and roll, and country tunes. That made an important difference...
It wasn't before a couple of more months had passed that I noticed something new. I was actually beginning to enjoy this exercise thing! ... I went to bed every night looking forward the next morning so I could hit the road and de-stress myself for a few minutes. I was now in the habit of jogging 7.5 km (5 miles) every day, except on Sundays. And I was feeling as good and as awake since my teen years!
One day I realized I had omitted an important activity. I had not weighted myself in a long, long time... so I again climbed the scale... and my jaw dropped to the floor when I read the numbers being displayed... seven, three... I had lost more than 17 kg (37 lbs) since I started my little quest... and was more than well into my dad's (he was a doctor) recommended weight range.
Then something happened, and it was not a good thing. I became obsessed with my weight, and challenged myself to weight less and less every day... see how low I could get. So I began to effectively starve myself, some days eating no more than 600 calories. And climbed the scale constantly to watch my progress.
That obsession ended the pitiful day in which I climbed the scale, and learned that I now weighted 67.3 kg (148 lbs) ... my wife couldn't take it anymore, and had a deep and long talk with me, telling me that I didn't look "lanky" as I thought I did, but rather that I looked gaunt and sick instead. And she asked me to stop doing what I was doing because it was going to end badly, and I was only going to ruin my health... and I understood and agreed with her... I no longer felt as good, nor had the energy that I used to feel in my best days. I learned something new about my own character that day.
So I relaxed my ways a bit, and went back to eating more normal. Even allowing myself a few drinks and dessert every once in a while. I stayed that way for quite a few years, always weighing between 74 and 76 kg (163-167 lbs). Which was more than fine for someone my complexion.
Anyway, to make a long story short, that spell ended when I hurt my shoulder about four years ago. I was hurting so bad that I could hardly move my arm for months. I could not raise it to grab things that were above my head, nor I could even scratch my own back with that limb when I felt the urge. It hurt so much that it even bothered me when I exercised and my body did the normal bouncing up and down when I tried to jog. And so I stopped exercising, waiting to get better so I could start running at a later time, when the pain subsided.
And the pain did subside after nine moths, more or less. But by then I had gone lazy, and was again eating and drinking without restriction... and up went the weight once more... I was again overweight. The scale read 88 kg ...
I've had enough. I've made a plan again, and I've set myself the goal of eating 1,300 calories a day tops. I started on January the 1st, and will keep this rhythm until April the 1st. I don't care how much I weight on the final day. All I'm focusing now is on eating healthy, and controlling my appetite. And I've been mostly successful. This because, other than the calories, my restrictions include zero alcohol, zero processed sugars, and zero stand-alone bread and wheat products... I do eat a sandwich or a hamburger every now and then though. Just as long as I don't exceed my daily calorie quota.
My strategy has been to eat only twice a day. I eat a "brunch" of about 300-350 calories at around 10 in the morning (I work mostly from home), and then I consume nothing until about six in the afternoon. At that time I eat a hearty meal of about 800 to 900 calories. Then I allow myself a small snack an hour or two before bedtime, and I hit the sack at 10:45 p.m. Give or take 15 minutes.
I'm climbing the scale every ten days or so. Weighing myself on the days that end up with the number 9.
These are my results so far:
Code:
Jan 1: 88.0 kg (194 lbs)
Jan 9: 86.7 kg (191 lbs)
Jan 19: 84.3 kg (186 lbs)
Jan 29: 82.7 kg (182 lbs)
Anyone who cares to join this thread and share his/her experiences is very welcome to. We all have different reasons and motivations for maintaining our weight within reasonable limits. It can be health, physical performance, or even vanity. It doesn't matter. Not being fat is always a good thing.
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