Who are you calling No. 2?

I stepped on the scale Friday and was horrified.

Standing there naked, the number staring back at me said 236.4. Another pound! Hooray, right?

I’ve never been so upset, with the exception maybe of the first time I stepped on Paisley’s scale almost 10 weeks ago.

I mean, what does a man have to do to lose some weight around here? Just a week earlier on Friday I came in at 237.4 pounds. And the very next day I came in at 235.6 pounds. On Monday I came in at 234.6 pounds. I was so giddy. I was going to win this weight-loss contest! At this rate I would be down to 231 by Friday. I told myself, “Stop weighing yourself and just wait ’till Friday and you’ll be excited by what you see.”

I’ve been in overdrive the past two weeks. I cut out the debauchery and skipped my allowed Eat Whatever You Want Days. Then I stepped on the scale Friday and get 236.4? This is my fucking reward? This is what I get for eliminating alcohol, all processed carbohydrates, doing an extra workout last Sunday, climbing a mother fucking mountain like Rocky Balboa and drinking almost two gallons of water a day? For 236.4? To gain almost 2 pounds between Monday and Friday?

It’s just an anomaly, I thought. I tried to shrug it off but it bothered me all day Friday. I’ll just weigh myself tomorrow and it will be back down to 234.6, I told myself. This is a marathon, not a sprint, and stressing over day-to-day changes in my weight is about as productive as trying to pop zits on my back.

I weighed myself Saturday morning and the same thing: 236.4. No change, WTF?

I felt defeated when I went for my hike in the Gorge to Tunnel Falls. What did I do wrong? Was it the steak strips I ate for four meals last week, the one’s dipped in salty teryaki sauce? Or was it the protein bars? I’m eating way too many protein bars! That must be it.

As I went to through the potential causes in my mind, I figured the best I would do now was to finish No. 2 in the Just Lose It contest. Speaking of No. 2 … wait … no way!

It’s not like I keep these things in a log book, but I could not recall the last time I took a shit. Definitely not on Saturday. Not Friday either. Thursday?

Needless to say, I realized I was having a bit of a problem. You could say I was having trouble letting go. But my hike helped shake it out of me and my visit to the lavatory Saturday night was something straight out of a South Park episode.

Today I’m back down to 234.2 pounds.

Talk about a shitty situation. But now I have some new friends: Citrucel and prunes.

I explained this phenomenon to Paisley this morning, because that’s what I pay her for, adding, “I’d hate myself if I lost this contest by a turd.”

Food Journal (click to view):
Breakfast: Pork loins, grapes and raw cashews (in baggies because I ate them while driving to the gym).
Snack: Perfect Foods Bar.
Lunch: Meat loaf, banana and raw cashews from Whole Foods.
Snack: Plain Greek yogurt with blueberries and Stevia.
Dinner: Lentil soup
Snack: Prunes and Citrucel