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As I have mentioned, I walk at least an hour most days, missing at most one day a week. I don’t stroll, I march along. I’ve been doing this for months. Yay me.

I’ve lost no weight (I’m not even mentioning the FMS). I figured that since I ramped up the output, even if my input included chocolate and coke, I should still lose something, right? Right, but it didn’t happen.

I managed to cut down on the junk (didn’t get rid of it completely, but a significant reduction). After two weeks of being good, I am at my all-time high.

I’m pissed off. It is illogical and unfair. I feel like I’m fighting with my body, although I am sure this is probably a bad state of mind. I’m not giving in, though. The next step, Weight Watchers. I’m joining on Wednesday morning.

My doctor suggests I actually attend the meetings, which I have always skipped, thanks to my low boredom threshold. She thinks it’ll provide support and accountability. We’ll see.

At the very least, I’ll be accountable to y’all.

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