My Challenging 10-pound Weight Loss Journey

I cross the finish—ten pounds gone, I grin,

even though day one awaits from within.

The ending speaks before the start can plead,

a lighter self I haven’t earned—yet see.

But somewhere back—or forward—dawn arrives,

I triple my workout time, and drives,

threefold the effort, the reps, the burning pace,

as if sheer will could make the outcome race.

Then comes the ache that hasn’t happened yet,

a body groaning, soaked in heavy sweat,

joints letting me know that I’m overdrawn,”

My fragile frame, which feels already gone.

Last week—or next—I read what experts say:

“Two pounds, perhaps, may be lost each week—no more, we pray.”

A sensible loss, a tempered, cautious art,

a measured rhythm for the human heart.

So, hope rewinds before the race begins,

ten pounds dissolves to eight… then four within,

a quieter goal that shadows what I dreamed,

a softer edge to plans once sharply schemed.

And still I’m there—before, beyond, between—

in kitchens closed, where cravings once had been,

no sugar spark to carry me through strain,

just fractured time, discipline, and pain.

I win, I lose, I haven’t tried at all—

while mentally feeling the rise and fall.