315

It is time to rename this blog.  I started out shocked by the fact that I tipped the scales at 305, and dubbed myself the “Fat Pastor.”  Today, on my third trip to the gym since Christmas, I took everything out of my pockets, got back on that scale, held my breath and found out that I now weigh 315.  It is ridiculous.  I am now “The Fatter Pastor.”

For the last five months I have had an abundance of excuses for not exercising.  Some of them have been valid, some not so much.  The bottom line is, today I am just under six foot two inches tall and I weigh 315 pounds.  My resting heartrate was 80 beats a minute today, and after doing three sets of 135 on the bench press, I was wiped.  All the progress I made six months ago is gone.  I would say that I am starting from scratch, but I think its actually worse.

None of my clothes fit – not even my wedding ring.  I carry my daughter upstairs to put her in bed, and I have to stop to catch my breath to say “good night.”

I’m disappointed with myself.  I’m frustrated.  And after a workout that six months ago I would have considered “light,” I am dead tired.  I have to go to bed, I’m not looking forward to heading up the stairs, and that is pathetic.

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