It was going so well. I was feeling good, working out pretty well this past week, feeling slim. Honestly, I think feeling slim is such a key to weight loss, overall health and fitness. My ITBS is really coming under control so I’ve been able to add some intensity to the workouts. All good news. And then it happened. We went to get a portrait taken for our church directory and when I saw my picture I was shocked! My belly looked like I was wearing a flotation device; my hair, or lack thereof, was reminiscent of my Italian uncles and I didn’t realize that in the right situation I look like I have a lazy eye, ala Sylvester Stallone. To make matters worse, I’ve been eating like SHIT! Sox game, queso at night, potato chips, candy, and ice cream all make for a really crappy diet and subsequently a less than ideal body. Even more annoying is that when I start eating crap, I know that it isn’t a good thing and yet I do it anyway, to the point where I just say, “Fuck it. I’ve already blown it, might as well keep going.” No matter how good I am during the day, watching my breakfast and lunch, working out, it’s all wasted in the evening. I have absolutely no will power after 7 pm. I’m feeling very frustrated right now, mainly because the only person to blame for my lack of progress is myself. Back at it tomorrow, feeling fat, bald and dumpy.