A couple of days ago I stepped onto my bathroom scale. I wasn’t quite sure what the number would be. I usually weigh in weekly. The magic number appeared, but I didn’t realize it until I plugged it in to my Excel spreadsheet. 50 pounds, on the nose! I had finally y reached a goal that had eluded me for years. Now it feels great, but I know that it is only an interim goal. My final goal is somewhere around 190 pounds, which is what I weighed when I was in high school. I tell the guys at work that I’m a “walking archeological dig,” every four months I fit into clothes that are two years older. I really haven’t had to buy many new clothes yet, but it feels great fitting into my old clothes, some of which are still new and purchased years ago on the hopes that I would lose weight “soon.” I keep an old belt to remind me how much I’ve lost. I wear it on my new jeans. The belt has two or three extra holes punched in it and the spare portion gets longer every week. I guess I’ll have to go back soon to visit my folks so I can use my dad’s leather punch to add a couple of more holes. I was stuck for awhile at 43 pounds; what got me going was the upcoming Steve Hartt Ride. I’ll be damned if I take the same amount of time to complete the ride as I did last year. I’m certainly not thin yet, but I’m much thinner than before. Same thing with the bike: I’m not fast yet, but I’m much faster than I used to be. At least the trend is encouraging.