The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.
Evidentially the journey to 30 pounds begins with 2.
I stood in the grocery store and calculated points before I put things into the buggy. I’ve pre-made, prepared and pre-packed all my food this week. I’ve carefully counted rice cakes. I’ve snacked on carrots and oranges. I’ve been hungry-HUNGRY-I tell you. I’ve been careful to NOT use all my points on any given day. I’ve been diligent and careful and committed.
For 2 pounds?
I gotta admit-I had higher hopes. In my obviously delusional mind, my checks were more pronounced, my waist was re-emerging and my torso was less pudgy. Silly I know but I really, really physically felt like I could feel the changes. PUH-LEEZE. 2 pounds is a bad day. 2 pounds is pair of shoes. 2 pounds does not a difference make.
In all honesty, while I have embraced the points I have yet to get out and get moving…after that first day when I walked for rice. Now that school has started and routines will be settling into place getting that weeknight walk in will be easier. I’ll make that the goal for this week. Although if I perform physical activity while HUNGRY and don’t see more then 2 pounds difference it won’t be pretty.
2 pounds. GEEZ.
At 2 pounds it will be 15 weeks before I get to my goal. And let’s be honest…my goal should more weight loss. I eased myself gently into this whole thing by giving myself what I felt like was a doable goal. At this rate I’ll get into my generous goal weight by what, Christmas? Holy mackerel. That’s a lot of counting.
2 pounds. Two. Less then 3 (and I don’t mean the text type for love). I literally mean
Anyone else find that commercial with the camel walking around asking folks what day it is amusing? In my head I am hearing that voice asking, “What’s today? What’s today? WEIGH-IN day.” Walking up to the professional scale I am using I was almost swaggering. I actually wanted to weigh. I stepped up with confidence. I smirked and didn’t everything but give myself a fist bump when I noticed the numbers kept going and going and going. I was temped to step off before the numbers settled in but I refused to be a coward so I stood there and waited (or weighted it) it out. My walk away from the scale was very, very different then my walk to the scale.
I am not giving up. I am starting as the AFTER but fully intend in getting back to the BEFORE me-the me that has cheekbones and a waist. The me that could tuck stuff in and wear jeans. Here’s the me I would like to get back to…,