This is mostly for me. But I feel the need to celebrate/be accountable to someone/something. I weighed myself on April 19th and I was 168. Today, July 15th (almost exactly 3 months later) I weighed in at 158.5 at the gym this morning.
I only weigh myself at a specific time: in the morning, after I’ve pooped, with as little clothing on as the gym allows So I guess it took me 3 months to drop 10 pounds. And that is 3 months of going to the gym 2-3 times a week, sometimes more. One month of 6 am workout class with Leslie. 3 months of watching what I eat, doing a juice cleanse, trying out “clean eating” for a few weeks, skipping out on treats and not eating after 8 pm. And all of that means that I lost a little less than one pound per week (0.83 lbs per week). That doesn’t seem like a lot, hmmmmm. I have 13.5 lbs to go until I’m at my goal weight. I guess that will take me until Thanksgiving, at this rate. That’s crap. Maybe I’ll make the goal to be back to 145 by my birthday. Yeah. November 1st, here we come.
I have been working waaaaaaaay harder to lose this weight than I have with any other baby weight. Ray officially did me in. And another thing about my weight/body – it is “settling” differently. Like, really differently. All my weight is settling slowly into my belly and thighs. I have a mommy body. The gut is never tight and my legs are disproportionately larger than my upper body (and by upper body, I mean my chest is smaller). It’s not cute, that’s for sure. Sagging, settling, lumpy, stretch marked body.
I see these little 20-somethings walking around the gym with their sweet, tight little bodies and I have this unbelievable urge to shake them and say, “Enjoy this! Appreciate your body now! Take pictures! ….. cuz it’s all downhill from here girls ….” I don’t shake them, but I must have a desperate look on my face because sometimes they seem to feel my stare, look at me and then hurry past. Such is life as a mommy – you start staring desperately at young girls at the gym. Weird, right?