In January, one morning before work, I pulled out a pair of khaki pants that I really like. I ironed them, and just before running out the door, I pulled them on. They buttoned, but barely. I was miserable wearing them. This ruined my day on two levels, the first obviously being that my pants didn't fit. The second was that I was late for work, since I had to find new pants and re-iron and basically start from scratch on the outfit. This was the day I decided to start losing some weight. And it's the absolute slowest weight loss of all time, but it's coming off. Any time I think about those pants, I am motivated to keep eating right.
Today I'm sitting here at work wearing those bad boys, and comfortably. Suckas.