As I mentioned in a previous post, I had stopped updating the weight tracker on my blog page -- mostly out of a deep-seated fear and loathing. For myself? For my pants? For rice cakes? For the nasty scale?
I have done many not-altogether-constructive things to my weight loss plan in the past month. They mostly involved dark-meat turkey, stuffing, pecan pie, chocolate-covered pretzels, batches upon batches of buttery cookies, almond bark (woof!), eggnog with rum, and grande peppermint mochas from Starbucks.
Yet something possessed me this morning. As I shed my clothes to step into the shower, it was like the scale was calling to me. "Just step on. Just take a look. One look won't kill. Honest," it said, and before I knew it, my feet were firmly planted on either side of the digital readout.
And for the first time in my lifetime of Decembers, I did a happy dance right there in the bathroom.
I was more than a pound lower than I had been the last time I recorded a weigh-in!
So I seem nuts to get up at 4:45 every morning to go to spinning class? Maybe so. But something's working...
I have done many not-altogether-constructive things to my weight loss plan in the past month. They mostly involved dark-meat turkey, stuffing, pecan pie, chocolate-covered pretzels, batches upon batches of buttery cookies, almond bark (woof!), eggnog with rum, and grande peppermint mochas from Starbucks.
Yet something possessed me this morning. As I shed my clothes to step into the shower, it was like the scale was calling to me. "Just step on. Just take a look. One look won't kill. Honest," it said, and before I knew it, my feet were firmly planted on either side of the digital readout.
And for the first time in my lifetime of Decembers, I did a happy dance right there in the bathroom.
I was more than a pound lower than I had been the last time I recorded a weigh-in!
So I seem nuts to get up at 4:45 every morning to go to spinning class? Maybe so. But something's working...
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