An new week — a new weigh in. 166 and some change. My spring gauge scale doesn’t really have increments one can see.
On my own, I’m doing just fine — plus the food’s a lot better. (To see what I’m doing, click here).
A new wrinkle in the program — Adam’s worrying about being less healthy than me.
First, I was right. He’s dropping weight. This morning, there was hardly any little pooch in the stomach area. It all looked really flat. Then we did at heart health test. I’m glad to report that I’ve moved from poor, to fair, to excellent in just a few weeks. I can now run without feeling like I’m on the verge of death.
So, for a lark, Adam took the same test. But he couldn’t get his resting heart-rate down. He says it’s because he was traumatized by a childhood experiment involving electrodes and a small black box. I say it’s because he’s been more focused on weight lifting than cardio. His test came back . . . the dreaded . . . average.
Now, he’s convinced he has to be in as good of heart shape as me. Yesterday morning, I only saw the back of him, on the way to Mulholland, as he ran ahead and disappeared around a corner up the hill.
So the race is on. Adam would say it’s a good thing because we’ll both come out ahead.
