Back in June, when I got fed up, I really thought I had what I needed to get my rear in gear. Apparently, enough wasn’t enough.

I tried, then slipped, then tried again, then slipped again. At least fifteen of the days since were spent on trips to three different cities—never a good thing for a diet. That said, on my last trip (just last week: hence the lack of posts), I really tried to eat light. For example, I’d order a side of potatoes or just toast for breakfast. Lunches would be small sandwiches and no chips. Dinners were (for the most part) equally austere. Sure, one or two meals were a little nicer than normal, but I really stuck at it; I really tried to prove to myself I wouldn’t let a little thing like business travel be an excuse to eat absolutely anything.

Got back and I weighed exactly what I weighed when I left. Granted, I wasn’t expecting miracles. I honestly didn’t think skipping a bag of Doritos would translate into ten lost pounds. But it was still a bit disheartening. Worse, since returning, I’ve actually gone back up a pound or two, right back to the most recent Day One number.

So . . .

What next? Well, for now, I think nothing. The Year of Failure continues and, for now, I’m just going to try to ride it out. The body does what the body does and rarely consults with us before coming to its decisions. This doesn’t mean “free for all” time. I’m not going to lose my head over it. But at the very least I’m going to try to stop pretending I’m actually on any sort of plan.

I’ll keep checking in each week. I may even post something odd on Thursdays. I may even introduce you to my other blog. So no worries, my two dozen fans, I’ll still be around for a while! Every last pound of me.

One of humanity’s greatest inventions just happened to be developed by its most resourceful faction: kids. Over the ages, as children developed impromptu and casual sports such as kickball, four-square, or (my personal favorite) whack-each-other-with-sticks, they also developed the best unwritten rule ever: the Do Over. If both sides agree that a particular play just doesn’t fit their general expectations of game flow (say, a ball landing ambiguously on the “out” line or a stick unexpectedly breaking over one’s “head”) then by mutual agreement a “do over!” is called. Suddenly, and as if by magic, it’s as if the play-in-question never happened. What a wonderful concept.

I may no longer be twelve (at least on the outside) and perhaps I’ve lost my right to claim a Do Over, but I’m not sure what else to do here. I have to face the fact that this current diet plan has landed on the “out” line: smack on a spot not covered by the rule book and therefore I’m starting over. It would be great, of course, to just be able to repeat the most recent play. Unfortunately, I have to start the game all over.

Last week I’d just gotten back from vacation and I wasn’t sure how things turned out. I concluded with, “it’s time to go get on that scale again and discover the truth. Tune in next week for the results.” Well, it’s next week and—well, there are your results. They’re bad and so I’m calling “do over.” So as much as it pains me to say it, here we go: Welcome to Day One #102.

I tell you, there’s nothing like spending the second week of a new diet program on the road. We left on Saturday, June 26, and got back just a few hours ago, around three in the morning. Zzzz…

Over the years, I’ve learned there are many pairs of terms which should simply never be used together in the same sentence. Here are just a few:

• Waterskiing, Shotguns
• Animal Shelter, Fireworks
• Chocolate Chip Cookies, Sauerkraut
• Chicago Cubs, World Series

Last, but certainly not least, on this list is, “Diet, Vacation.” I really hadn’t planned on having my last Day One and this trip overlap the way they did, but since when does life ever go as planned?

This week’s chart looks exactly like last week’s chart and for the exact same reason. I have no idea how I’m doing. Ten days on the road (and without a scale) as landed me in quite unfamiliar territory: I have no idea how my diet’s going. And as one of those people who weighs himself every day, rain or shine, I feel out of sorts.

My only real gauge is my intake. And, oddly enough, I think I did pretty well except for one particular day. I tried to watch what I was eating, I didn’t stop at every single Long John Silver’s I passed, and, in general, tried to keep every day to twelve meals or fewer. I think I did pretty well.

I think.

So now it’s time to go get on that scale again and discover the truth. Tune in next week for the results.