'F' as in Frank

Fighting a losing battle

No two ways about it, I'm on a losing team. Each week we experience losing. In fact, our combined losses have numbered 16 over the last three weeks.

And our team couldn't be happier, because the losses represent victory.

That's right, Joni and I are on a diet.

We're not starving ourselves, mind you, nor are we denying ourselves a tasty snack now and then.

But let's just say it's been three weeks since I've had a McDonald's french fry.

It's not that I can't, or that I won't, indulge in french fries. It's just that we're putting things-namely food-in perspective.

The catalyst for the new weigh of living, at least for me, was topping a certain weight on the scales.

I won't tell you what that weight was, but it was a motivation to get me started.

That and Joni, who has taken the lead in mapping out our course of healthy courses.

I think she may be losing a little faster than I am because of her walking regimen. I work out too, but my elbow lifts (as in sipping a cup of coffee) aren't consuming enough calories.

Seriously though, we enjoy family walks together, especially in the neighborhood around our new house. It's just that Joni and our dog walk more frequently, and farther, than I do.

Still, it's an accomplishment for me to slow down, take time and go on that mile walk three times a week.

In some ways the timing of our weight loss is unfortunate, since some of my Christmas gifts were clothing.

If things continue as they are, I'll eventually have to wear suspenders and walk around in baggy pants, or buy new clothing.

But then again, that minor dilemma is part of the satisfaction of being on a losing team.


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