It's Thursday, and that means it's time to weigh in.
I have felt svelte this week. I can see it in my face. There's something about the way losing weight affects my face; my dimples show up. I'm prettier. It's like the real me is actually visible. I like it.
My clothing is starting to feel amazing. Even small. I put on my favorite winter coat today, and it fit perfectly. Last winter, I had to pray before I buttoned around the boobs. Now? Piece of cake. And it looks adorable.
Last night at the gym, I saw the young woman who sold me my membership. I remember telling her that my real goal was to get down under 200 pounds. She's awesome, by the way. So supportive! She now works at a different location, but she was always very inspiring to me. Seeing her at my gym just made my night! I hadn't seen her in about a year, so when she saw me, she gave me a big hug and said, "How much less of you is there?" Lots, I said. Still about 50 pounds total to go, but lots. "Are you sure you should lose that much more?" Wow. Then I broke the news that I am still technically obese, at 220 pounds. When I get below 200, I said, we'll re-evaluate, but for now, I'm going for 50.
It felt so good to be encouraged and recognized like that. I really have worked hard, and I'm glad it's showing.
Met a new trainer last night - Scott. He's funny and sarcastic, just the way I like 'em. It's important to me to know the training staff, because if I have a question or feel the need to die, I'd like to call them by name when I ask for help. So Scott asks me if I have any bone or joint issues. "Was it my sexy knee brace that made you wonder?" I asked, and he said no, he hadn't even noticed. He was asking because - get this - he teaches Boot Camp, and he wanted to invite me for a free session.
Translation: I look like someone who can survive Boot Camp.
I've seen Boot Camp. They work 'em like a mutha. So, while I turned him down because yes, I do have joint issues, and they don't recommend it when that's the case. But holy schnikes, that felt good.
Anyway, did my run, in the company of my girlfriends, Linda and Dee. Half hour on the treadmill, and at one point, I ran 9 minutes and 45 seconds straight, and did the occasional 60-second sprint. Followed the run up with a half hour on the elliptical, and 700 torched calories later, I was done. Felt amazing.
So when I woke up this morning, I almost couldn't wait to get on the scale. And there it was - 217.8. Point 8? What the hell? I'm just calling it 218.
Two pounds away from my initial 10 percent. A pedicure is within reach ... although I may change that reward and treat myself to a massage.