I’ve lost about twenty pounds since I started half-heartedly going to the gym a few months ago. I’m down a pants size (now 40 waist, 30 inseam). At some point, I’ll have the glasses I want; for now, the glasses I have work well and the contacts I’ll soon acquire should help me see more clearly and comfortably.
I’ve done lots of stuff to my hair, but I think I may be happiest with what I’ve had the last year: a mohawk. I can maintain it with a beard-trimmer, my bathroom mirror and a lot of squinting. It’s been a pleasant addition to my residual self-image. I don’t think I’ll mind (years from now) looking back at pictures of myself all that much.
It’s been about two-and-a-half months since I saw that dratted documentary and stopped eating a bunch of stuff. I don’t think the smaller of the “v” words is exactly what I’m doing, but it’s fairly close.
Though there’s plenty of room for improvement, I think I like how I look and feel — I think I’m closer to how I should look at this age.