|I am the big fat red bird in Angry Birds.|
Over the years I think that I've grown mentally (a bit) and matured (a bit less). Despite the growth I still suffer from character defects. I've always had a quick temper usually brought on by tantrums when I don't get my way. My two year old is now teaching me great lessons on how to deal with life on life's terms and/or how to throw a wicked tantrum.
What's all this self-reflection, gushy crap got to do with biking? If you're a regular reader you'll be quite aware of the battle I've waged over my weight, specifically to get my weight down to make me go faster on the bike. This journey of self discovery and acceptance of my body type has had its share of roller coaster rides and late night trips to the peanut butter jar.
I weighed myself last week, hoping to see a few pounds lost so to make the long sustained climbs that I'll be doing in North Carolina next week a bit easier. Alas, my weight didn't drop, but actually increased by about a pound (197 lbs) . . . . and over the past couple weeks I had been trying to eat well and was riding! I completely expected to see a drop in weight.
It pissed me off. It really pissed me off. So much so that I kind of jumped in anger while standing on the scale when it told me something I didn't want to hear. It was unintentional, it wasn't to destroy it, it was kind of like a little kid buckling their knees in disappointment before they rebound back into the air in full arm and leg flailing tantrum. Yep, it was kind of like that.
|Success! From now on, no matter what and how much I eat, I'll always weigh 2 lbs.|
I didn't break the scale, I just fixed it.