OK, that’s sort of a plateau.
At any rate it’s been six days dance dancing around the same pound. I wouldn’t care, but it’s at a ten pound mark, so like let’s say you weigh 321, then you lose 22 pounds and you are down to 299, 299 sounds 30 pounds lighter than 321 even though it’s only 22 pounds. No, I never weighed 300, but you get the point.
I’ve been under 1,700 calories a day. It’s almost impossible that I haven’t lost weight. I’ve even been running every three days, walking every day that I’m not running and lifting weights twice a week. So go figure…
I understand the plateau. The body lowers the metabolism. It makes your digestive tract move slower, so it can squeeze every calorie out of your celery. It also makes you require fewer calories to maintain the same weight. More salt makes it easier for the body to hold the water weight. Bad calorie foods, liquids high in fat and sugar are ravenously devoured by the body to try to hold weight. Maybe I’m losing fat, but not muscle so, I’m getting leaner but not lighter. I get it. But I don’t like it.
The body is tricky. When you are plateauing, it could very well drop your maintenance basal daily calories to some unimaginably low level. I will find that level, at least until I drop below that ten pound limit, then I will go back up to my usual caloric intake again.
I’m dedicated to this. The body won’t win. It can die first. I don’t care. IT WILL NOT WIN. I am willing to go to any extreme to lose that 1.7 pounds. I will run that 29:59 5k by year’s end. I will run that 33:00 5k some time this summer. I will run two miles in under 20:00. I promise.
But, as I have a passionate, ancient, deeply-abiding, Early-Romantic-Period, tragic, unrequited, mystical love for my dearly beloved readers, I would not recommend that you cut back calories for too long without the strict, muscular, turgid advice of a rigid, dominant, stern licensed Physician or certified Dietician.
Peace be the Botendaddy
As today is April 19th…
You must recite!
YOU MUST RECITE!
‘By the rude bridge that arch’d the flood,
their flag to April’s breeze unfurl’d
here once the embattl’d farmer stood,
and fired the shot heard round the world.’