This is me not obsessing about my weight.

It’s been a while since I posted, due to a combination of frustration, embarrassment and, oddly enough, hope — hope that, if I wait one more day or one more week, I’ll have lost a couple more pounds that I can report.  And I have lost a little bit since my last post about two weeks ago (that was Week 9, making this Week 11).  I weighed in at 179.5 this morning, down 2 pounds, but still above my low, 177.5, about six weeks ago, before my whirlwind wining-and-dining tour of such exotic locales as San Juan and Cleveland.

Honestly, I thought I would be further along on the weight loss journey by now.  I thought I would have lost much more.  Five-and-a-half pounds isn’t much to show for 11 weeks of effort.

Deep down, though, I know I haven’t been trying hard enough.  The ugly truth is that I hate dieting, although Weight Watchers very deliberately bills itself as a plan, not a diet.  Still, it comes down to eating less overall and especially less of certain things that I enjoy very much, like wine, cheese, anything salty and crunchy … I could go on, but you get the picture.

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