When my boyfriend and I broke up three years ago, I did what pretty much any man hitting the market again after a long-term relationship does. I took a look at myself in the mirror and joined a gym. The fact that I was about to trip the big three-oh was just added incentive.

I also threw out junk food and soda from my diet and started weighing myself everyday to monitor my progress. I started out at around 148 pounds. For most people that’s pretty damn lightweight, but for me, having been 125 in high school and 135 in college, I had packed on 13 extra pounds. And I could see all of it sitting around my waist when standing shirtless in front of the bathroom at 8 a.m. in the morning, an undeniable testament to my slacking off and the “letting-themselves-go” that people speak of when wrapped up in a long-term relationship.

After six months at the gym, and six months of denying myself all but healthy food, I had dropped down to 140 pounds. I suspect I really lost ten pounds, but gained five back in muscle.

For the last three years, I’ve basically maintained that weight, cutting myself more slack at the gym and in my diet so that I can enjoy life, instead of making my life all about the gym and eating tofu.

So when I stepped on the scale yesterday and found the numbers: 135.5 staring back at me. You can imagine my surprise. What happened? Where did those five pounds go?

Now I’m pretty sure it’s the running. A 15 mile run can burn like 1500 calories. That’s half a pound!

Won’t be long before the Olsen twins start calling me “skinny”.