At the end of March, when I went for my annual checkup, I weighed in at 244. By then I had quit swimming and so quickly saw 250.
Coincidentally and actually, for me, more importantly, I felt it. I felt stuffed and not comfortable. Particularly as I lay in bed at night. Just a blob.
I promised myself when I turned 50, I'd never have to watch what I ate again and I have no plans to give that up. I do not 'eat healthy' and never plan to. If kale passes these lips, it will be when these lips are dead. I eat what tastes good to me. I do not eat what does not. Simple.
BUT, turns out, timing is maybe even more critical. I quit eating dinner. I moved dinner to lunch. At dinner time, I ate maybe a sandwich or maybe a bowl of cereal. I never did get used to a big lunch and I did begin to learn to only eat when I was hungry. I ended up not eating as much. Still eating what I liked. Just not as much.
Now I really do eat when I am hungry and I really do eat less. If I'm hungry for lunch at 10 am, I eat it. More importantly, I've come to be less and less hungry at 'dinner' time and if I'm not hungry, I don't eat.
And, man, do I ever feel better! It's ridiculous how much better I feel.
And I am no longer 250 pounds. This morning, I was 239 and losing. Very very gradually. After decades up decades of caring religiously how much I weighed, I can't not check and can't not be happy about the decline. So I am. I'm really excited to see my cute doctor's face next March. He's been so good and gentle about my being morbidly obese, he'll be delighted.