A couple of days, after being slightly sickened as I tried on a pair of jeans and looked in the mirror, I declared that I was going to lose this spare tire around my waist.  

The spare tire is caused by two things:  (1) I love to snack; (2) I grew up with scarcity and a lack of parental acknowledgement, thus always feel a emptiness inside me, which I try to fill with covert snacking; (3) at 58, my metabolism is slower.  

Since I am possessed of a compulsive personality in other regards, the only way to lose weight is to be extremely strong, and put up with feeling extremely hungry.  I hate it, but I hate my spare tire more.