The other day, we were sitting on the terrace and ranting about things and other things. My father also coughed, chronic bronchitis is a bitch. And then we were poking fun at each other for being out of shape in many ways and it ended up in a wager:
If I lose 20 kilos before Christmas, my dad will stop smoking
I was immediately in. My father is a chain smoker with a physical dependence on nicotine. I've had enough of unsolicited advice along the lines of People won't ever like and respect you when you're such a fatso. I gave away my stash of chocolate and similar noms and started srsly dieting because workout is not a problem, lousy eating habits are. Two weeks in, I'm 2 kilos less and I've been only sitting, typing and rotting away. I'd add some exercise weren't it for either torrid heat or rainstorms (which means too rainy for cycling and too wet and hot inside for anything but lying and sweating).
We'll see. As the things are going, I'm still ready to get me a bowl of popcorn on the 25th to watch what's going to happen.
(should I post pics of the progress, I wonder?)