I’m starting early today on this post in case of a deteriorating mood that happens to me when I’m faced with having to go out in falling snow. For someone who lives where we have snow relatively frequently, I’ve never adjusted to driving in it and even a ten minute drive fills me with great sorrow and concern, nausea, perhaps. So, I don’t know how today will look and I want to post and feel the doneness of having posted all day long. Might cheer me up.
Sunday means stats.
Started January 2nd at 164.5
Goal: 130
Currently: 152
That is, mes amis, 12.5 pounds of my 34.5 goal.
However, I do want to put a little caveat next to that 152 lest next week it goes back up and everyone tears their hair out in dismay and disappointment. When I did my usual weigh in time of 7ish am, it had not moved, much as I stomped on it and reset it and made sure my feet were settled. I was feeling in a word: shitty, as a result. Because I have been, on the whole, damn good. I have not been writing exactly what I eat because for me, at this stage, I know it will do more harm than good because I can handle making sure I get enough calories and enough carbs in a general sense right now and I think it will make me incredibly more neurotic to spend more time berating myself for too much, too little. Perhaps it’ll get to that point if I have future (or current) plateaus, but as of now, I’d like to rely a lot more on the way I feel and recognizing my hunger and just reading labels than documenting every bite.
So, anyway, back to the story, it is cold here. Icy cold and being frustrated with the world, I went back to bed. It’s a couple hours later and feeling like 154.5 is the ugliest number ever and an impossible number since I was 153 yesterday in the weigh-ins that don’t count….I tried again and stomping, resetting, checking my feet weren’t on the carpet, it said 152.
So I don’t really know. I’m going with the 152 and leaving the damn box alone. 152 feels much more right, after weeks of no weight change – though I am confident that inches have been lost and my legs are becoming taut and hungry to run or at least walk hard just about every day. But, it kind of proves that it doesn’t really matter.
Because if it was 154.5 all day long today, does that mean I should stop if my body feels better doing this? I can figure out what adjustments to make and have done, starting with those protein bars that delicious as they were, I’m not at all ready for. I know that 152-149 is where I waver. It starts to become real, and I start to feel dangerous now. I start to feel undeserving of a body I feel decent in and like I might make a mistake with it. I feel like I start to become visible and I shake my own wall of faith down so that I can revert back to a more physical, tangible defense.
Not this time, though, you irascible temple of the soul, you cowardly shrine to the spirit. The decision can’t just be made by one part of the self and as scared as I might be of actual change and success and the power that might result: more confidence, more risk-taking, more dream-following, more love, more responsibility, more joy, more change….there are parts of me that are yearning, starving, gagging for just that and it’s time we at least got a chance to see how bad it could possibly be to be honestly satisfied with who we are.
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