Thursday, April 14, 2016

A difference of opinion…

This week is really flying by. The weather is starting to moderate, and the sun has been out which always improves my mood.

Both physically and mentally, I’ve actually felt like I am getting my shit together. I was over at the other office again yesterday and this time, instead of one of those horrible - but alluring - processed danishes, they had horrible - BUT ALLURING - chocolate covered donuts. But this time, instead of standing there like an idiot having an internal debate with myself about whether I should have one, I looked in the box and it really wasn’t that tempting - I don’t think it will ever be NON-tempting, but I’ll take only slightly tempting.

I’ve been running - 30 miles since Saturday. And it’s feeling good! Without trying - my speed is gradually starting to improve. Nowhere near as fast as I used to run, but getting just a little faster. The Achilles is doing well, now if I could just get the ball of my foot to heal up, I’d be in great shape!

And eating? Totally on point. The “experts” say that when a person eats less that their stomach DOES NOT actually shrink - I’m certainly no anatomy expert, but I want to call bullshit on that. As I’ve started to eat less, it does seem like it takes less for me to feel full - I suppose that this could just be psychological, but it certainly feels physical!

So despite my weekend overeating, having been super good this week I knew that when I stood on the scale this morning and I would be richly rewarded for my efforts. Instead the scale showed me the EXACT SAME NUMBER as when I weighed in last Tuesday morning. Down to the .3.


What would be my normal standard operating procedure - feeling sorry for myself and getting the fuck-its - that didn’t happen. I tried to remember what it was like when I was first losing weight. When I didn’t worry so much about the number on the scale - when I just focused on eating right and exercising well, knowing that the numbers would change eventually.

But I won’t lie, it is discouraging. When you know that you are truly sticking to plan, but your body isn’t having any of it. BUT, I feel better physically, in control of myself, and happier. If that continues, I think I will be okay. No matter what number the evil fucking scale shows me!!

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