Is it weird that I actually look forward to Monday mornings now? My anticipation is a potpourri of fear and hope.
Did I lose weight? How much? Were my efforts worth it? Did I mess it all up by eating those cookies?
I don't know why I get so anxious--kind of in my nature I guess. Every weigh-in is a reason to celebrate. Whether it be 1 pound or 10 pounds, it's less pounds than I had the week before and less pounds than I started out with back in May. I have to keep telling myself that. Otherwise I would go crazy.
Looking ahead, knowing I have 100 pounds to lose feels like not only is there an elephant in the room, but that elephant is stampeding its way towards me, intent on my demise.
I'm going to get mooshed.
But if I do like they say and take that elephant on one bite at a time (Do you think elephant is a good source of protein?) it seems a little more manageable. Then at least the elephant isn't barreling its way towards me; I'm barreling towards it...?
This analogy went kind of south...
Anyway! The results of today's weigh-in are: 5.9 pounds lost this week.
That's kind of huge. Like I'm-trying-not-to-gloat huge. Like maybe-I-really-can-do-this huge. Like maybe-that-article-I-read-about-not-eating-after-8-pm-does-NOT-make-any-difference-is-wrong huge.
I'm pretty darn pleased with that number. So pleased I think I just may go for another wog today.
Bring it on Week 6!
P.S. Thank you so much to all the words of support and encouragement! Good luck in your healthy endeavors this week too!!