Introduction

I’m blessed with a wonderful family and a software career I truly enjoy. I also have a bunch of hobbies and friends that I like spending time with. All these shape how I live and what I optimize for: time, energy, and the freedom to be present.

A Few Defining Chapters

I smoked for about 15 years. It was a ritual, a break, a stress valve—until it became a trap. Quitting wasn’t about superhuman willpower; it was about seeing cigarettes differently. Allen Carr’s Easy Way helped me recognize that smoking doesn’t relieve stress—it creates it, then temporarily removes the discomfort it caused. Once I saw that clearly, quitting clicked.

There was a consequence: without the structure and hand-to-mouth habit of smoking, my weight began to creep up—slowly at first, then steadily.

Weight Creep and the Wedding Crash Diet

By my late thirties I was hovering around 95–100 kg (200–220 lbs). I felt it—energy, clothes, confidence. Before my wedding, I did what many people do: I crash‑dieted. Extreme deficit, relentless cardio, total focus. It worked—for the photos. Then life resumed, motivation faded, and much of the weight returned. As I wrote in Wedding vs. Marriage Mindset, I had treated weight loss like a project with a deadline, not a lifestyle I could live with.

The Turning Point at 40

Forty wasn’t about feeling old. It was about finally thinking in decades. What kind of 50s, 60s, 70s do I want? Energetic, capable, present. That future requires decisions I can sustain, not sprints I can’t repeat.

So I stopped chasing quick fixes and started treating weight loss like an ongoing experiment. If something works and is livable, keep it. If it doesn’t fit my actual life, discard it—even if it’s trendy or “optimal” on paper.

From Dieting to Experimenting

Here’s the approach that changed everything:

Choose habits I can keep for years, not weeks
Do movement I genuinely enjoy (so I actually do it)
Prioritize consistency over perfection; bad days become data, not drama
Favor the minimum effective change over heroic effort
Review results regularly and adjust with curiosity, not judgment

This mindset is lighter. There’s less guilt, less all‑or‑nothing thinking, and more learning. I stopped asking “What’s the fastest way to lose 10 kilos?” and started asking “What can I keep doing for the next 10 years?”

What It Looks Like in Practice

I experimented with meal timing, protein targets, and simple structural changes to my environment. I noticed which meals left me satisfied, which routines made weekdays easier, and which forms of movement didn’t require convincing myself every time. I placed friction in front of the habits I wanted less of and removed friction from the habits I wanted more of.

None of this sounds dramatic—and that’s the point. The boring, repeatable choices carry the most weight (pun intended) over time. The question I try to keep front and center: “Would future‑me thank present‑me for this pattern?”

The Results (So Far)

Progress has been slower than crash‑dieting, but far stickier. I’ve lost weight gradually and, more importantly, built knowledge and trust in my ability to keep going. I sleep better, feel steadier, and don’t need a deadline to be disciplined.

Even though I am both weighing myself AND counting calories regularly to stay in touch with how I'm doing on the weight front, I’m not chasing a “goal weight” as much as I’m building a lifestyle that makes weight management the default outcome.

The Bottom Line

Thinking in decades reframed weight loss from a short sprint to a long practice. When you prioritize sustainability over speed and curiosity over control, the path becomes clearer—and kinder. The Weight Loss Experiment isn’t about the one best plan; it’s about discovering the simplest set of livable habits that keep you healthy for the rest of your life.

Ready to start your own experiment? Begin with Do You Really Want to Lose Weight? to check your readiness and choose your first small, sustainable change.