S̶u̶p̶e̶r̶ Re-size Me

Today, it’s exactly 3 years ago my awesome profile picture was taken.

That means, it’s also 3 years ago I got a high-score when stepping on the scale, netting me (with a margin even) a membership to the 0,1 ton club. Along with a fresh new diagnosis for hypertension, that put me just 3 pints short of being clinically “morbidly obese.”

Since last night (you’d almost think I timed these things, but only one person aside from me knows the truth), that’s more than 25 kg ago. Now, my shirt size has gone down from a skin-tight XL to a comfortable M, and I’m only those same 3 pints and a large steak into overweight territory.

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Just yesterday, I hit my lowest weight in at least the eighth of a century I’ve been tracking it. Also, chart porn showing that “yo yo weight” is a very real thing.

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Outgrowing belts at a rate of around €30/month currently, I still need to drop some 10-15 kg, but would like to thank for the great support I’ve gotten in the past months and super-sweet comments recently. Though I’m not terribly vain, it still makes me happy.

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Well, enough with the E/N emo bullshit; happy britober to y’all and have a bad FB profile picture joke: if a Facebook profile picture shows two persons, the profile always belongs to the less attractive of the two.

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