I must have fallen in to another dimension this morning. Some women I work with, all of them much thinner than I, have started asking me about the food plan I am on. They're all impressed with my success and want to try out what I am doing.
When did I become a health guru??
The mind boggles, really. I guess I can understand because 20lbs (yes, I officially hit the magic 2-0 yesterday!) in a month and a half is pretty impressive. But I don't think someone that weighs a lot less than I do will have such immediate success. Adrienne used to royally piss me off when she would wine about how I burned more calories and lost weight faster than her 135 pound ass. Of course I do. I have 20 times the amount of weight to lose. Oy.
Anyway, it's weird, but in a good way. If you had asked me what losing 20 pounds would feel like, I don't think this is how I would describe it. One would think that amount of weight would bump me down a size and make half my wardrobe obsolete. Or at least get rid of one of my chins. Alas, this is not the case. One of the unfortunate side effects of my tendency to gain all my weight around my middle is that it's a little hard for *me* to see the changes. When I look in the mirror, I don't look all that different. A few pairs of pants are less snug, but that's about all I've noticed so far.
Some people have commented on the loss. I believe some of them more than others. At a cocktail party on Friday, at which I ate much more than I should have, someone I hadn't seen in probably two years said that she thought I had lost a significant amount. And the husband of one of my coworkers noticed, too. Of course, he didn't say it directly to me because such things frighten men most of the time. But his wife was kind enough to pass it on. Heh. I believe that more than people I see every day thinking that they need to say things to keep me motivated.
I am still waiting for the hard part. I haven't been inclined to run off to Burger King or stuff my face with Cheetos yet. I think it helps that I had that vacation and then my little lapse at the party the other night. My vacation taught me that I can live like a normal person and still eat right. And the party reminded me that I still have a long way to go when it comes to restraint. I am somewhere in the middle of where I want to be. It's much more comfortable for me to think of the future with that in mind, but it also keeps me motivated to keep trying.
The 20lbs helps, too. I've never lost this much weight. Ever. (It's 30 if you factor in my heighest recorded weight!) So whenever I think that an extra helping would be good, I remind myself of all the good I've done and the slippery slope that is the extra helping. Extra helpings lead to chips in the house which leads to pizzas ordered and chocolate cookies consumed. It's good to be comfortable but not *too* comfortable.
I've finally started working out. I am planning to take it slowly because I don't want to get discouraged. I did extra work yesterday and I am paying for it today. I plan on getting up tomorrow. Or I should say I *will* get up tomorrow and get it over with. I wish I didn't like sleep so damn much. It would make life a lot easier.
I've got a little over three weeks before I am headed home. I'd like to knock out ten more pounds before I go. I should be able to swing that if I keep the whole grains in check and kick the exercise up a notch. I can't get down on myself if I don't hit some arbitrary number, though. The journey is half the battle. Or some rational shit like that.
