Oh come on! Not even one pound?

Bill and I decided to get serious and change our lifestyle to be healthy.  While our goal included some weight loss, what we both really wanted was to make better choices for what we eat and make working out a part of our routine.  We set some reasonable weight loss goals to be achieved by June of this year.  Then we created "The Plan".  

The Plan is pretty simple.  No fad diets or extreme restrictions.  The Plan was to set a healthy calorie limit for ourselves, write down what we eat, and work out 3-4 times per week.  I bought us new journals to record our daily food intake.  I also discovered a website called FitDay where you can record calorie intake and exercise, which has a searchable data base of foods with all the nutritional information.  It is really cool.

So, off we went.  We started January 2nd.  There have of course been a few things happen that caused us to veer from The Plan, like Bill's birthday, but we are trying to make lasting changes. So when we went out, we ordered sensibly and limited the calorie busters, like wine and sweets.

I had a hard time the first week getting to the gym.  It was the first week back to school and I felt really tired.  But since then, I have been swimming and walking.  I can do more though.  My exercise definitely needs to increase.  But I have been religiously recording my calories and sticking very close to the 1,500 limit.  (And I'm honest!  I recorded 10 M&Ms!)

To date, Bill has lost 16 pounds.  I am SO proud of him. 

I have not lost one pound.  Not one.  The scale has dropped below my starting point, but it has also gone above my starting weight. Before we started this stupid thing I would go above and below my starting weight.

I feel like I should just go ahead and chuck it because all this work and scrutiny hasn't affected my weight any more than eating what I want and working out occasionally. 

Seriously, three and a half weeks and nothing?  Someone hand me a corkscrew.

The REAL reason why I haven't posted in weeks

I remember very clearly the day we got our Atari.  It was a big deal.  I remember the big plastic cartridges you had to plug in for the various games.  The joysticks, with the bright orange button and the cord that only allowed you to be three feet away from the console.  Oh man, that was a big deal.  Whenever I think of our old Atari, of course I think of Centipede, Pong and Dig Dug.  One of my favorites was Space Invaders.  We logged many hours on that old Atari.  

I also remember when we got our Commodore 64.  It was Christmas Eve and like every Christmas Eve until she passed away three years ago, we were at my Nana's house.  For some reason, my family and my uncle's family were opening the large gift intended for the whole family that were from our parents.  My cousins opened up a treadmill.  My brother, sister and I opened up the Commodore 64.  I will never, ever forget my brother's face when he realized what he had opened.  Disbelief first, then shock, then absolute joy.  What an upgrade.  Atari got shoved in a cupboard and made way for the high tech C64.  Gone were the plastic cartridges, to be replaced by 6" floppy disks.   We started playing Frogger, Archon (my favorite), Ms. PacMan.  Pitstop, Commando, and Ghostbusters. 

While I have fond, fond memories of these video games, what I remember most is my brother's obsession with them.  And he was really, really good.  I sucked.  But it was the best day if he would play a game with me.  We'd hook up the joysticks or controllers and select a two-player game and though he would completely kick my ass, and those who know me know I hate to lose, I was so happy because we were playing the game together.

I'm not sure when the Commodore 64 got shoved into the cupboard with the Atari.  I remember getting a computer and spending most of our time fighting over who got to play next.  The camaraderie of the dual joysticks disappeared and we started growing up.  We never went past the old Commodore 64.  No Nintendo, certainly no Playstation or XBox, these were much later.  I heard of the obsessions that came along with those gaming systems, but I never really understood them, because to me, video games were about watching my brother and praying the next time he played, he would let me play with him.

Now, at least 20 years later, I've met, and become close to, a certain young Italian named Mario.  For his birthday, I bought Bill a Nintendo DS.  I asked him what he wanted and he jokingly said and XBox.  Of course, we can't afford that but I discovered that if I ignored our "limit" we established for birthdays by just a little, I could get him the Nintendo DS.  I even splurged and got him the Super Mario Brothers Limited Edition.  Bill was excited, and I was thrilled because I finally got him something he seemed legitimately excited about.  He started playing Mario Brothers, the only game he had so far.  Though I wanted to play too, I of course waited until he was finished until I picked it up to try.  Bill is currently in World Two and hasn't played Mario in weeks.  He plays Brain Age and Madden '09.  I am in World Eight and so frustrated with the stupid bees that drop down and attack me I want to scream.  I've yelled at the game.  I snap the lid closed and groan with frustration.  I've even called the game unfair.  I was serious, too.  It took 20 years and I now understand the obsession.

Bill recently asked why I haven't posted on my blog.  He wondered why I haven't posted on Teddy's blog.  Well, Dear Husband, the answer is simple:

"It's me...Mario!"