This is the third good week in a row. I've felt encouraged and like I belong. It's not been without anxiety. I'm still waiting for something bad to happen. But I genuinely feel good physically and emotionally.
I've consistently gotten up at 5:30 am and walked. I've increased my distance a little at a time. I've added in extra exercise during the day. I've diligently watched what I've eaten and stayed mindful of fat and calories. My clothes are fitting better and I had a 12 lb weight loss the first two weeks.
But, I screwed up. I thought I'd move my weigh in and measurement day to Friday. I'd eaten and been on my feet for hours cleaning. It was afternoon and not early morning.
I was so discouraged by what I found. I sat and cried. I've worked so hard and the scale hadn't moved and my measurements were up an inch in one area and the same in another. Even though everything was different, I thought something would have changed. I've never put in a week like this one.
Obviously, I know that it's not going to be easy. The weight isn't going to melt off. I know that 12 lbs in two weeks is probably a huge jump start, but it'll slow down.
Even though I'm discouraged, I'm not giving up. I'm determined. I'm not going to bury myself in a cupcake or ice cream. I also know this is our anniversary weekend and I'm going to eat. I'm not going to skip celebrating.
So onto next week I go. A little down, but not out.
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