I don’t get it.

At all.

I walked a few miles on Friday after work: okay, not home, but over to Chinatown, and then over to Franklin Square for a bus. Saturday morning, on four hours of sleep, I was in the gym for over an hour, burning fat on the exercise bike. I went back later that evening for another thirty minutes. Sunday I started and ended the day with twenty minute biking sessions, and in between, I walked four point four miles to and from work.

Okay, I drank two beers Friday night. I may have eaten a hot dog or two this weekend. But I wasn’t consuming as much junk as I did last week. And yet, I only dropped a pound. Whereas last week I ate ice cream, and hot dogs, and drank beer to my heart’s content and only gained a pound (admittedly, I also worked out like crazy, but no crazier than this week, right?)

Maybe I am building some serious muscles and this is just muscle weight gained. (Hey, a guy can hope, right?)

In any case, this morning I was at 235.5, a loss of a pound since last week, and back to my weight two weeks ago.

So there’s that, anyway.