|This is my treadmill. That chick in the red workout bra and boxing gloves is my role model. |
Is it weird that I stare at a bunch of hot chicks while I work out?
Near the end of the month, I felt liberated by it. I measured how well I was doing by my ability to run another mile on the treadmill or by being able to fit into smaller jeans.I've done sit ups until my tailbone was raw and bleeding. My abs are looking pretty good for someone who had three kids in the last six years. I still wanted to know what the scale told me, but I was more satisfied without knowing than I had ever been before.
This morning was my weigh-in. I've been nervous about it for days. Did I do enough? Will I have any success at all? I've been tracking my calories out with a Body Bugg, and I've met or exceeded my need caloric burn nearly every day. I've also been tracking my calories in and I've done pretty well. Last weekend my mom was in town and we splurged, but nothing over the top. According to the Bugg, I should have lost between 7-8 pounds.
So imagine my surprise, nay shock, when in the pre-dawn hours this morning I stood naked and trembling (from cold y'all. My house is cold) and saw that I was down....two pounds. Now, my manfriend and my mom warned me that this scale read at least two pounds heavier than my previous one. So, even if I give myself those two pounds that's still only a four pound weight loss in eight weeks.
Maybe the real solution is to give up the scale for good and just go by how I feel. Because yesterday, I felt great...and today I feel like shit. All because of the scale.
|From January first until today.|
|You can't really see it, but I have a little ab definition from this month's fab ab.|