When they weighed me for the clinical trial, it was in kilograms, not pounds.
I am bad at math, but I knew the rule that you double the metric system, so I heard 130 kilograms and calculated that I was 260 pounds, which is a personal worst.
I am also bad at hearing. She said 113 kilograms, or 249 pounds, or one pound less than my heaviest weight ever.
Still, bad enough to scare me into considering what I eat. My latest grocery order contained no breads, potatoes, gelato, or sugar. I bought a series of salads to start the process.
Gary saw me eating salads and decided we needed to institute a weekend ritual of comparing all the bakeries in the general vicinity. I did not participate, nor did I eat the ice cream he offered, or the french fries. He stuck a bag of chips in my face and I found the one visible folded chip and ate that.
I don’t anticipate a sudden and dramatic weight loss, but in six months if I have more than two pair of pants that fit I will be happy.