Today was my second official weigh-in. The result was discouraging.
I started this project after discovering that my weight had shot up to 307 pounds, higher than it had ever been before.
I wasn’t comfortable in the 290s, mind you, but at least I could say I hadn’t hit the triple century mark. In my first week of healthier living, I dropped seven pounds. That still left me at 300.
I expected to lose more weight my second week.
I wasn’t sure how much. Surely not seven pounds.
That’d be insane. Maybe I’d lose two pounds, the amount my doctor wants me to drop each week. But three pounds ... that’d be better. Or five, the equivalent of a bag of sugar. Five pounds wouldn’t be too much too ask. Or even — let’s be honest — another seven pounds. Why not? I’ve been eating less and better.
I’ve been working out nearly every day.
Last night, in fact, I did an hour of weightlifting and about 30 minutes of cardio. No way I could’ve done that a month ago.
I deserve to be seven pounds lighter!
But I’m not.
I changed into workout clothes about 11:30 a.m. and headed down to The Oklahoman’s
fitness center, where the official Ken 2.0 scale lives.
I slipped off my New Balance shoes and stepped onto the scale, nervous — but eager, too. This has been a long week.
Ongoing Coverage: Fat-to-fit