Not even 3 lbs...yes, The 18th netted a 2 ¾ weight loss. While that result makes me disgusted with myself and want to pull the covers over my head, I choose instead to look deep into the fire. What truths can I extract?

I logically understand that my body has prioritized repair over weightloss in these last six-weeks. I get it—each morning my foot sharply reminds me as the dream breaks.

The only bright spot for The 18th is there were moments in all the pain where I didn't use food as an emotional crutch next to my real crutch. Even today, where there's a part of me that thinks a Twinkie might ease the lack of a loss, I know that's NOT what I need.

Yesterday, in a now deleted post, I unveiled the playlist of daily songs that have built the last six weeks. I set it high in the Great Hall of Expeditions, next to the playlists of the past, something to revere for the months and years ahead. Those playlists were a car on the weightloss rollercoaster I rode in 2018, 2019, 2020 and early 2021.

I find that the goal of weightloss is hollow. Don't get me wrong—it is a fundamental piece to achieving enhanced fitness to live a better life, but to what end? While we can mitigate the effects of entropy as we age, we should be sober-minded and not rely on where the world places its confidence. Our end is coming. Our destiny awaits with the infinite for it has been put into our hearts.