I've lost 96 pounds since late July. Au naturale, no drugs. I'm swirling a sub-200 weight for the first time in a couple of decades.

I stepped on a scale at the end of July and blinked. It'd been a few years. Sure, my pants were getting bigger, but 298? No. Decided right then and there. Wasn't going to happen.

Diet and exercise. Cardio combined with resistance, with the objective of gaining muscle. Intermittent fasting and calorie counting, followed by a shortening on the fasting, always calorie counting. Everything calories, if not with an app then mentally.

The gains were easy at first. The weight melted off, because I am one stubborn Gaul, and none are as fierce as the Belgae, or so Caesar says.

Plus, I was fat. I had nowhere to go but down.

Anyway, I stalled out at around -70 pounds. That's okay. Stalls happen. But this one stuck around a while. I didn't know how to get 'er out of neutral.

Then I stopped drinking alcohol, and the weight loss picked back up with a vengeance. I'm a social drinker, and a social guy.

Only recently did I read about the metabolic effects of Mr. Booze. I ran through the chemistry today, dusting off ancient knowledge from undergrad I'd intentionally kept buried. I despise chemistry as a field of personal study, and I resent having to do this.

Turns out, though, alcohol isn't just something to calorie count like I was doing previously; it's a substance that works against fat-burning metabolically. I intensely dislike knowing this. You may now dislike me for knowing this, too.

I've gone 45 days without a beer, but feel no real impetus to have one now.

Sometimes, ignorance is preferable.