Fat Loss Journey: Day 2 – The Tale of Coffee, Carbs, and Chocolate Biscuits (Oops).

Day 2 started off strong—I woke up at 9:20 AM, which is practically sunrise compared to yesterday. Feeling like a responsible adult, I took myself to the market and bought coffee and eggs, clearly ready to tackle life and maybe even adulthood. But then, priorities hit, and by 10:45 AM, I was deep into a 30-minute Genshin Impact session, saving virtual worlds while completely ignoring the pile of clothes waiting to be folded in my room.

Post-gaming guilt kicked in, so I had my black coffee with sprouts, a combo that made me feel like the Hulk minus the green skin. Fueled by caffeine and questionable snack choices, I finally cleaned my room like a proper grown-up. Lunch was a hearty plate of boiled potatoes, rice, and three whole eggs—a meal so simple and protein-packed that I half-expected Gordon Ramsay to kick down my door and call it “basic but brilliant.”

After lunch, I honored my favorite fat-loss ritual—a nap. I passed out till 4:30 PM and woke up feeling like I’d traveled through dimensions. Then came my pre-workout meal, a delightful mix of roasted chickpeas and protein powder, which I balanced out with two chocolate biscuits. Now, I wasn’t proud of this moment. The biscuits stared at me, and I stared back, knowing full well I promised myself a week without processed sugar. But let’s just say the biscuits won the battle.

Determined to make up for my sweet betrayal, I hit the gym at 6:15 PM, ready to lift my guilt away. Chest and triceps day was brutal but satisfying. I started with flat bench presses—110 kg, 5 reps, 3 sets—because, you know, powerlifter things. Then I moved on to incline barbell presses (3 sets, 15 reps), machine presses (3 sets, 12 reps), and cable flies (3 sets, 12 reps), basically turning my chest into a concrete slab. For triceps, I pushed through 2 sets of pushdowns (10 reps) and finished with close-grip bench presses—70 kg for 8 reps, 3 sets—because clearly, my arms hadn’t suffered enough yet.

After surviving the iron jungle, I crawled back to my room, prepared dinner like a warrior—260g of chicken and white rice—and sat there feeling like a fitness god until the soreness kicked in and reminded me that I’m human. I thought about studying, but my muscles voted against it, so I’m calling it a day and heading to bed, sore, full, and still slightly haunted by those chocolate biscuits. Tomorrow’s another day—hopefully one without betrayal by processed sugar.