Day Eighteen / Good morning (No weigh-in today)

Yesterday was a success. I took my morning walk, went to work, and was busier than a one-legged man in an ass-kickin’ contest all day. On the plus side I got a lot of work done or apropriately delegated. On the minus side I only got in 300 stairs.

I met Eric at Prospect Park in Brooklyn and walked through the park for a mile or so to his place. He was too tired from previous workouts for a longer walk, and I decided that only getting three hours of sleep that night wasn’t a great idea anyway. So we crashed for an hour or two, got up, hopped on a Q, and got to the Ziegfeld at 11:00.

Iron Man 2 was good but disappointing. There were nontrivial pacing problems, and Sam Jackson warped the fourth wall until it practically split with his unfortunate reprise of his role in Pulp Fiction. His character is the head of an international anti-terrorism organization, and he played it with all the gravitas of half an ounce of Flubber.

My diet was more successful than the movie. I had the apple, banana, and a modest serving of hommus and pita before my nap, and ate the Minneola just before the movie in order to make Eric’s popcorn stop screaming at me to eat it. And I never touched my Zone Bar!

I didn’t get to bed until 3:30 and I decided that two and a half hours of sleep was a really bad idea, so I got no exercise this morning. I intend to do lots of stairs today and do a heavy calisthenics routine when I get home. I believe that, if I don’t get stupid at dinner with Grace and her parents, the scales should tell me good news tomorrow morning.

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