Well, I stepped on the scale today for the first time in a long while and I while I wasn't shocked, the 337 staring me in the face certainly caused me to hang me head in disappointment.
Fifteen years ago I was averaging 225 miles a week on a bike and loved it. Somewhere along the line I stopped riding as much and after my Dad died 6 years ago it's been a real chore keeping my Mom going. Other than riding my bike exclusively for four months straight 2 1/2 years ago, I just ride every once in a while for fun. It's taken its toll as I can barely get my shoes tied and the other day it was like doing a chest workout trying to get my pants buttoned.
Well, something's got to give and soon. I have horrible eating habits. I eat at night before I go to bed after getting home from my Mom's house and go through about a 30-pack of beer a week. I really only drink the beer when I'm eating something at night, so, getting the eating under control will erase the beer completely.
I'm trying to psych myself up to start commuting to work again. I'll ride to work every once in a while now, but I want to do it on a regular basis. I'm getting ready to turn 52 and it's not going to get any easier.
I'm like everyone with an eating problem - I eat when I have a good day, I eat when I have a bad day. I generally live to eat instead of eat to live. That's what I have to reverse. It isn't going to be easy, but I think I'm about ready to give it a serious go.