The first time I hopped on the scale, it showed no change. I got on again and it was down a pound. I said - out loud, to my empty bedroom - "two out of three". So I got on again, and it was down a pound. So here's where we stand (other than nekkid in a corner of my bedroom):
- 230.5 pounds
- Down 9.5 pounds since starting to count the calories on Monday, August 23. That's less than a month. I'll take it.
I was a little discouraged with such a little loss, but then I looked at the Big Picture. Almost 10 pounds. That is nothing to sneeze at. That's an accomplishment. And a pound is a pound. If I'd spent every week when I was eating whatever I wanted losing a pound instead, well ... I'd be at my goal already. And every week can't bring huge losses; it's just not possible. So I'm going to celebrate this pound. It matters.
Thank you, little pound, for leaving my thighs. We appreciate it.