The results are in...
According to Jenny's scale I lost 3 lbs.
According to mine I have lost at least 5.
I'm going with mine.
I got to have a sit down with my counselor Elaine yesterday and review my first week on the program.
I asked when I can bump up from 1200 calories.
There were crickets for a minute and a tiny staring match and then the reply,
Pardon me, but WTF?
You mean I am relegated to bird seed sized meals for the rest of my life?
That light at the end of the tunnel is dimming.
I get to bump up a little when I reach "maintenance."
Joe reassured me that "we" will always be the kind of people who have to "watch."
I've always watched.
I watch the ho ho go down the hatch with a Funyon chaser.
That used to be my "road food." When I used to travel for work, I'd stop for gas and load up on road food.
Funyons were a staple of that.
1 maybe 2 packs of ho hos.
A "Fun Size" bag of Funyons.
And a Diet Coke. (No, the irony isn't lost on me)
My idea of a fun evening was getting chinese (lots of chicken fried rice), some raisinettes and a movie. I'd lay on the couch and gorge myself with raisinettes.
Ah, the good ol days.
Now that I'm eating healthier and active, I don't miss that.
That's a complete lie.
I DO miss it...but I also miss wearing a belt.
My husband says we're having a burning party after I reach my goal.
We're burning all my old sweatshirts, every pair of enormous yoga pants I own, and--his personal favorite--the granny panties I just bought that Joe mistook for a fitted sheet when he was folding laundry recently.
I will feel confident and good in anything I grab out of my closet. I won't have to do the lay-down-on-the-bed-to-zip-my-pants-and-then-hope-the-zipper-doesn't-split-when-I-stand-up routine anymore, ignoring all the "ew" that is spilling over the waistband.
I can workout on the machines at the gym without worrying about all the people on the balcony staring down at my hideous backside.
I can feel attractive again.
I can stop poking fun at myself in the effort to deflect how uncomfortable I really feel.
Who am I kidding...I'll still poke fun at myself.
And then unicorns will dance, birds will sing, and rainbows will light up the sky, right?
Don't look at me that way. I AM being realistic.
I just realized I haven't even told you about this awesome body monitor I got yesterday. It's like what the contestants on the Biggest Loser wear. It straps on my arm and tracks my calories burned, steps taken, activity completed and calories consumed. There is no guess work here. I'll KNOW what I need to do to lose weight.
The software that goes along with it is addictive.
I keep uploading my data just to see where I am for the day.
You don't realize how many steps you take in a given day. My goal is 8000. I thought that would be nearly impossible, but in just 5 hours last night (when a lot of it was standing at an event) I walked almost 2000.
Can't wait to see what happens when I go to the gym.
This thing monitors when I sleep too. Or, in my case with a newborn and 2 kids who constantly want to sleep in our bed, how much I'm NOT sleeping.
For those of you who have commented...THANK YOU! It's you guys who are keeping me going. Seriously. This is no fun. In fact, I hate it, but I can't wait until we're all having a drink (and a slice of greasy pizza- a girl can splurge once in a while) and laughing about how much I hated it.
Until next time...