Now that the Thanksgiving dinner is over and done, and the weekend of gluttony is behind us, Lori and I have noticed that the lean bodies we had at the end of our canoe trip are a distant memory.
Not that we're fat or anything. And I, for one, haven't noticed any weight gain on my wife. When she told me that she's started packing it on, I denied it with a "Honey, you look great to me."
That's me, the brown-noser.
She recently told me what our bathroom scale read to her when she stepped on it, and I told her that it must be broken. And then I stepped on the scale, and I feared that I may have been right, that the scale was, indeed, broken.
But the scale isn't broken. We're seeing numbers that, while not astronomical, are higher than either of us would like to see.
And so we've started a challenge.
In the next eight weeks, I have to lose about 15 pounds; Lori, 10. We've started using our calorie-counting and fitness apps on our iPhones. We're avoiding the chip aisles at the stores and have started going for walks.
I'll be hitting the gym this weekend and will start cycling again, something I haven't done in more than a month. Because not only have we made this a challenge, we've made this a competition. The person who comes closest to his or her goal (percentage-wise) by mid December wins $200, which he or she can spend on whatever.