Losing weight

Just went upstairs with a firm intention to get my computer and blog, but I got sidetracked into first changing the sheets and then responding to a couple of emails from clients and/or potential partners. Worked through that.

So I weigh too much. I know that. 10 pounds more than I should, 15 more than would be ideal. My pants definitely know that, or at least they tell me that. And I hate shopping.

I have been trying to exercise more. I ran a bunch on Saturday, did some core and upper body work yesterday (should have done more, but was kind of hamstrung waiting for a truck so we could deliver Graham's old bunk bed to a Burmese family -- I'll spare you that story), etc. I will work out today at the gym, I promise I will. Even though this couch here is mighty warm and nice, as is this novel I am reading.

But I have a real difficulty eating less. I am just not good at it. I like food too much, and I consider it my due, since I have quit so many other things that are bad for me. Yesterday night we went to a new place (Haw River Grill on Elliot, perfectly fine if not exceptional -- not better than Al's, for example) and I had a burger and shared a bunch of fries with the table. I surely ate more of them than anyone. My attempt at moderation consisted of not getting cheese on the burger.

To seriously lose some of this weight, I need to eat less, or seriously ramp up the exercise, and the latter is hard because of time constraints and, frankly, aging concerns. Non-muscular pain in my feet if I run too far/long, for instance. Sigh.