I’ve been trying to lose weight. It’s no fun being fat, and regardless of the whole “don’t bodyshame me” trend, which has its pluses in terms of kindness and self-esteem, the biggest minus is that it’s just plain unhealthy to be fat. Sorry, but it’s true. I wouldn’t shame anyone for their weight, but reality is still reality and pretending it’s not isn’t useful. That certainly applies to me.
I’m fat, and I’m working on it. Doesn’t help with the big meals we’ve had lately, but I am seven pounds lighter than my absolute heaviest, which is good. I’m up quite a bit from my lowest earlier in the year, which is bad. But if I can improve ten or twelve pounds a year for the next few years, maybe by the time I’m fifty, I’ll be in good shape.
Slow and steady wins the race?
Target: 900 words Written: 1168 words, novella: The Mungk