Weigh day: today's total is 213.8, which is -1 pound for the week and -15.2 pounds total, with ultimately 59.8 to go. On the one hand, I'm happy. Last year I was stuck on 214 for three weeks in a row and I was so frustrated getting past that number. Also, I did lose a full pound. But from where? I guess I'm growing discontent with my loss--I'm being greedy without wanting to put in greater sacrifice and effort to get greater results (ex. more exercise). A good week's loss is one to two pounds. My weekly average is 1.6 pounds, so things are going all right. But every time I look in the mirror, I don't see it. I see my body and to me, it looks the same as it did fifteen pounds ago. I guess fifteen pounds is just too small a percentage to make much a difference. I try to remind myself, "You're doing well, you're doing great" all the while fretting over every lump, bump, roll, stretch mark.
It's crazy, but I almost feel worse about my body now than before. Weird, eh? But every lump and roll looks so much worse to me. It can't be worse, right? Maybe the process of losing weight stimulates the mind to imagining what the body could, should, might look like. Compared to those fantasies, the reality feels no where near enough. And I swear my chest has gotten smaller--that's just no good. My chest has shrunk a bit, but my stomach has stayed the same (my pants still fit about the same), so I feel especially out of proportion. *Sigh* Just keep swimming, just keep swimming.....
On another note, I'd like to add a new goal. Last year I wanted to be at 207 by my birthday in early May. It didn't happen. I didn't really get very close. I want to make it to that point. 207. It's a landmark weight for me and I think I can do it as a birthday present to myself. A very merry unbirthday to me, to me....
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