I hate my pants.

Current Weight: 213
Target Weight: 170

I weighed myself this morning and, according to my Weight Watchers digital scale, I am two pounds less then I was yesterday. I don't know why. I highly doubt that had anything to do with any effort on my part - I did very little yesterday that would have resulted in a one-day loss of weight. Don't get me wrong: I did my best to eat well yesterday. But two pounds of weight loss in one day does not come from simply fighting back the gnawing urge to finish all the Friendly's Ice Cream Cake leftovers from my wife's birthday - an urge I did not fight the night before.

I went to a wake last night for a family friend. My parents were there and we got into talking about taking care of ourselves and worrying about our health. The conversation of mortality, it seems, is inevitable when someone close passes...

My dad could stand to lose a couple of pounds, but he's not unusual for a 70 year-old man and is probably between a 28 and 29 BMI. However, my mom is overweight and I am concerned about her. My mom is the kind of person I want to publicly track my progress for, for whom I am writing this blog. She is someone who has had a difficult time finding her way to her goal, whatever that is. (Now that I think about it I'm not sure I know what my mother's fitness goal is or if she even has one. I'm pretty sure it isn't to run a marathon. Maybe her wish is to be able to exert herself and not get winded. Or maybe she wishes to be just healthy enough to reach a ripe old-age and see her grandkids frow up in front of her.)

But, for as much as I am concerned for my parents as they enter their Golden years, last night my parents told me that they were concerned about me. THEY. Were concerened. About ME. They didn't didn't mean their comments to be acrebic or critical. It was genuine concern and heartfelt. My father was never as heavy as I am now and my mother is concerned that, since her father had diabetes and health problems, that could run in the family. I have been told I have his hair and some other features. Why would I not also have inherited a gene that leads to heart disease?

When I left the wake last night after saying goodbye to my parents, I had every intention of going to the gym to get a sweat going. This was not meant to be. I arrived at the gym at 9:35 and it closed at 10pm. I still had yet to wiggle out of my just-too-snug chinos and into workout gear. I couldn't imagine getting in 15 to 20 minutes of treadmill time. Now I regret it. 15 minutes would have been better than nothing.

Instead, I came home and the first thing I did was unbutton my pants. My belly was finally free! As I write this now, I cannot help but think of the scene in Shawshank Redemption when Andy (Tim Robbins) finally escapes the prison and stands up, arms outstretched in the rain. Somewhere in my body there is a thinner me doing hard time for a crime I didn't commit.

I crawled into bed and confided in my wife. I told her I was not happy with myself and the way I felt. That something needed to change. But she already knew that. She has been very good with me about my weight and as patient as you could expect a spouse to be when you are watching someone struggle with excessive sweating from doing nothing and not being able to sleep at night. In fact, aside from last year when we got married - when she knew I would be happier if, in the future, I could forever look upon pictures of myself on my wedding day and not see a fat guy marrying a pretty girl - she has expressed nothing but concern for my health and happiness. I am thankful that I am married to such a loving and supportive woman.

My wife suggested that we go for a run on the boardwalk in Long Beach, NY, this evening. Its a Friday and we would otherwise have made plans to go out for drinks for Happy Hour with workmates and friends. We would have eaten fried food at the bar, because we would be hungry and have had to put something in our stomachs to absorb the alcohol. Then we would have gone out to eat and I would have ordered the "healthy" salmon or turkey burger option, but still have had yet another glass of wine or beer and half of the dessert that we just had to have because it sounded so delicious.

Instead, tonight, we will jog along the coast and watch the sunset together. We will plan ahead to make sure we are not hungry, that we have water to rehydrate us, and that, when our jog is over, we will opt for a healthy dinner.

No longer will my pants be my prison!

It ends today...

Current Weight: 215
Target Weight:  170

The title says it all. I'm tired of being overweight. Something must be done.

For most of my life, or for as long as I can remember, I have had a gut. When I look through pictures of myself throughout my life, I see pictures of a man in varying states of weight loss and weight gain, trying desperately to reach that goal I posted for myself the last time I lost weight, or the time before that, or the time before that...

I weighed myself today: 215lbs. I always wondered how many pounds there are in a "stone." I'm sure there is a conversion calculator out there on the web. But I'm not looking it up because 215lbs. means enough to me that I don't need to know how fat I am in other units of measure.

In the interest of complete disclosure, I should probably divulge that I have been fatter. In fact, I at one point got so fat that I stopped weighing myself altogether. I have much bigger jeans in storage than the ones I'm wearing now. I don't want to have to take those clothes out of storage. That is just one of the goals for why I'm starting this blog.

What does it take for someone to remain motivated? To stay focused? To commit for life? In essence, how does one finally acheive success and maintain it, never again to look upon a goal never achieved as a haunting reminder of failure?

I believe the promise to committment has to be larger than the goal itself. I don't just want to lose 45 lbs. I want someone to read this blog and follow my Tweets and find hope. I want someone to read about a guy just like him or her who gets weak from time to time. The regular guy or girl, the average Joe or Jane.

I am not perfect and I am not setting out to be. I just want to feel better about myself. And I know that I am not alone.