Past the Point of No Return

Up until this point, for some reason I've been avoiding talking about the size of my clothes. This seems a little irrational when you consider that I've spare no detail in the matters of my weight and overall laziness. Sufficed to say, when I started this journey in May, I was wearing size 36 paints. For those unfamiliar with men's sizes (AKA rational sizes), that means my waist was about 36 inches around. I use the past tense because I'm definitely not a 36 anymore. This week I fit easily into an old pair of khakis I found that were 34's. This morning I managed to get myself into a pair of 33's. To be fair...I think I should be in the 34's. All the same, this raised the question of what to do with all my old pants. What do I do with all the 36's?

The cheapo pack rat in my head screams, "Hang on to them, you never know when you might need them again."

I've decided to ignore the inner pack rat, though. Keeping my bigger pants would be like accepting the fact that someday I'll be fat again. Forget that! I've worked to hard in the last few weeks to give up. I started in May with a one year commitment, but I now realize that one year isn't going to be nearly enough.

I want to be a fit dad to my baby girl, not for a year but for a lifetime. I want to be able to keep up with my beautiful wife, not until April 2010 but until April 2090 (call me an optimist).

I'll be donated my bigger clothes to Goodwill. Hopefully it will be the first of many such donations over the next few months. The message I'm sending to my inner cheapo? "Hey you, if you don't want to be wasteful, don't let your waist go back to being as full."