Finally! I broke the plateau crisis.
I had been stuck at 272 for what seemed to be forever then the unthinkable happened...I GAINED a pound? Huh?! WTF!! It took almost another week, but finally, tonight, I'm down to 271. Next stop, the '60s, baby! 260s that is.
Plateaus like this are normal and to be expected. I remember plateauing (wow, spell check allows that word) every time my weight came to a round number factor of ten threshold like 230 or 220 BINT. Now it seems those stall outs don't necessarily follow that pattern. Of course I know they didn't BINT either, it was just a coincidence. The scale is indifferent to your wants and desires. It's a cold-hearted bitch.
Tonight, as I walked to the bathroom scale, it was like I was in a spaghetti western, sauntering down the middle of the dusty street, tumbleweeds rollin' on by in the sienna-tinted late afternoon sun, puffin' on my stump of a self-rolled cheap cigar, hands hanging close to the guns on my belt, pokin' out the bottom of my shabby woolen poncho.
Tooey-ooey-ooooh....Waa, Waa, Waaaaa!
Tooey-ooey-ooooh....Waa, Waa, Weeeeey!
One of us...Punk! One of us is going down tonight!
I stepped on it. It "drew." I "drew." And, well...
I won.
Waa, Waa, Waaaaa!
I had been stuck at 272 for what seemed to be forever then the unthinkable happened...I GAINED a pound? Huh?! WTF!! It took almost another week, but finally, tonight, I'm down to 271. Next stop, the '60s, baby! 260s that is.
Plateaus like this are normal and to be expected. I remember plateauing (wow, spell check allows that word) every time my weight came to a round number factor of ten threshold like 230 or 220 BINT. Now it seems those stall outs don't necessarily follow that pattern. Of course I know they didn't BINT either, it was just a coincidence. The scale is indifferent to your wants and desires. It's a cold-hearted bitch.
Tonight, as I walked to the bathroom scale, it was like I was in a spaghetti western, sauntering down the middle of the dusty street, tumbleweeds rollin' on by in the sienna-tinted late afternoon sun, puffin' on my stump of a self-rolled cheap cigar, hands hanging close to the guns on my belt, pokin' out the bottom of my shabby woolen poncho.
Tooey-ooey-ooooh....Waa, Waa, Waaaaa!
Tooey-ooey-ooooh....Waa, Waa, Weeeeey!
One of us...Punk! One of us is going down tonight!
I stepped on it. It "drew." I "drew." And, well...
I won.
Waa, Waa, Waaaaa!