"I am going to be in some pain tomorrow for sure."

Day One of the Reckoning:

At 6:45 am this morning our alarm clock rang. Ms. K and I had an ambitious plan to get up and go to the gym together, throwing on our clothes, gathering our things, and taking the dog out for a quick walk. But item gathering took longer than expected and by 7:30 am we were just leaving the apartment. So much for get up and go! We groggily walked to the F train to take us to Carroll Gardens, Ms. K with her pre-gym cigarette and black tea, me in my new gym clothes. A half hour and a detour later, we arrived for our workout and I self consciously climbed onto an elliptical machine for the first time in four years.

We decided on a friendly wager. The first person to reach their goal weight wins (and by goal I do mean a reasonable goal, not "I want to lose 75 lbs in six weeks!") and the loser has to pay for a nice meal at the restaurant of the winner's choice. Ms. K clarified that a "nice meal" was not the tasting menu at Per Se, although that would be one hell of an incentive. Other rules include no drinking during the weekdays unless for special occasions and mandatory gym attendance four times a week. Ms. K is taking the contraband list one step further by cutting out refined sugars and flours. The weekends will be our splurge days because neither of us want to live some austere, teetotaling, bacon free existence. Oh no. Although booze and pork got us into our pants-to-tight predicament in the first place.

The race has begun.