I am four pounds down now, YAY. I probably could be losing faster, but slow and steady wins the race according to a famous tortoise. I relate to his round figure much more than that snotty hare. The run was extra difficult this morning; I had to ignore squeaky knees, my lunar headache, and bloating. But I didn't feel as sorry for myself as I did the lady on a bike. She was stocky and had weird pants on with a gray sweatshirt hoodie choking her face; she looked like the flu-ridden Pedro from Napoleon Dynamite. As I was running into the parking lot next to the gravel path, I gave her a how-do-you-do smile and she looked up and stuttered a response. For some reason her eyes stayed on mine, foreboding. Then she wobbled left, then right, lost her footing and tripped off the bike. She gave me a sheepish grin and shrugged. It wasn't really an accident as much as an embarrassing slip-up in slow motion. I hopped to her side and asked if she was ok. She quickly got back on her bike and responded "It's ok, I am learning the bike." She had a heartbreaking little voice with a cute accent. I gave her the best smile I could find and said, "Oh yeah, it's ok." She soared away like it never happened. Part of me wanted to stop her and say, "Hey, let's be friends, we are both awkward and out of place in this world of being fit, let's help each other out." But I didn't, I just thought it my head, "Hey I understand." and something in her face said that she understood me too. So they are not all bimbos and Barbies, some people are just like me: trying imperfectly to lose some weight and tripping up along the way.