21 pounds

So, I have been avoiding the scale in the bathroom like the plague recently, for many a reason, but mainly because I noticed that I was starting to get obsessed with weighing myself every day.

You know that when you are trying to lose weight, you shouldn’t weigh yourself more than once per week, right? I know that, and it didn’t stop me from stripping down every morning (I am going to do myself all the favors I can here, folks) and weighing myself, and pondering about why the scale always says something different (both up and down) every damn morning.

It had to stop. So I started getting in touch with my backbone, and decided to not get on the scale for awhile.

I knew good things were continuing to happen. I would go walking, and have to run on occasion to get my heart rate up (I did look all around me to make sure no one was watching in the neighborhood before attempting to run. I would also stop if I saw a car coming). Also, I went shopping with a friend for a new outfit to wear to an upcoming wedding. I about drove her crazy with my fifty million trips to the sales floor looking for pants that would fit. The final verdict—I’m down a size!

I do have to say this-- there are two things I know. I know that I can’t readily see the change in myself because I live with myself each and every day, and the changes are gradual, and I acclimate. I also know that I am losing weight in places that I, at least, consider to be odd. Like my calves. My back and neck. Stuff like that.

Not that I’m complaining! Ever have the old bra that you wear towards the end of the week because the laundry situation is dire, and it pisses you off all day long because it’s kind of stretched out, and it rolls up in the back? Not any more, my friends. So yeah, if losing back fat (which I never really did pay attention to before now) is what it takes for that to stop, well; I’m on board 100%.

Back to the point—I was getting curious. I wanted to know what the numbers would read now.

The verdict: I’m up to 21 pounds lost!

I decided that this deserves a great big pat on the back, so I gave myself one of those, and then immediately started craving a Blizzard from Dairy Queen, and subsequently put it out of my mind again.

Damn you, ice cream! Why must you be so wonderful, and yet, the bane of my existence?

I have decided, to be like Ellie on One Crafty Mother, that when I find out that I am up to twenty-five pounds lost, I am going to Google what weighs 25 pounds and make a list for blog consumption.

I already have one in mind, though. A bag of Super-Sophie’s dog food—which usually lasts her two weeks. Yuck! I’ll have lost a big bag of dog food?