180. There was no denying it, that big old weight was locked on the 150, and the little slide was right there on 30. the nurse noted it in the record, not giving it a second thought. but I sure did.
When I left for Afghanistan in May, I was at 192. I ended up in Bagram with American chow halls, no exercise program, and a sedentary desk job. I was 200 in June. Then I moved down to a NATO base with a British chow hall run by Indians. Dot not feather. And why the heck does NATO have the BRITISH run their chow hall? Seriously, we had French, Germans, and Swedes. We pick the British? But I digress into Bob TV territory...
After three months of eating cold green beans and corn from the salad bar (sans salad) I lost a bit of weight. When I got home two months ago I weighed 170. And was in amazing shape...28 inch waist, 44 inch chest. I was working out once or twice every day, and loving every minute of it.
Now I'm home with a wife and two kids. Life is busy. Fast food is palatable again. Busyness makes meal planning difficult, and the pace of life does not lend time for me to work out every day, or even every week. And I've been eating well.
On the one hand, 180 is awesome. I've only gained a pound a week with no exercise and a terrible diet. But on the other hand, it shows I'm slipping. I wish I could have maintained the 170, maybe even drop to 165. I guess it's something to shoot for...another goal to have during all of my free time.
180. Last time I'm up there. Time to get my head back in the game and focus my efforts. And I'll see you at 170.
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