Feels weird to be doing this post when I just shared last week’s weigh-in yesterday. Although my weight finally did go down this week, it was right back to same weight that I was last Monday. Yet, so much has changed for me in other ways to lift my spirits.
Week 12 results: 0.0
Total weight loss: 21 lbs
Weekly average weight loss: 1.75 lbs (hey, not too shabby when you average it!)
After sharing my post yesterday and commiserating with a couple of other people having similar weeks of busting ass and gaining or just not losing weight, things started to change for me.
It started off by me just getting dressed for my weekly walk with my sister. I decided I was going to wear the “Person in Progress” t-shirt I ordered for myself from Spreadshirt.com.
When I first tried it on 3 days earlier, I felt it was sort of snug. But it wasn’t really – I just honestly wasn’t expecting it to fit because I thought I’d ordered 1 size too small (because of size limitations & because it was incentive to shrink). But it did fit. So I gave it another try along with the knee shorts I favor for walking in warm weather to see how I looked.
I looked better.
I surprised myself that I could see the old me coming through… things ARE changing even if the scale isn’t. I had lost inches right? Yes I had.
So looking slightly trimmer & fitting into my new personalized shirt lifted my mood.
Then my sister came to pick me up. She noticed right away, but admitted that maybe I looked smaller to her because I was finally not wearing something so loose fitting (which could also be true, but damn it, no – it was because I was smaller!) She did mention later in our walk that there seemed to be a big change in just the week since she saw me last (better fitting clothes and 2.5 inches lost can do that).
Having someone else notice you are shrinking is such an awesome feeling of confirmation and verification of your efforts and is hands down, even more satisfying than noticing the change yourself.
As we walked the trail at the park, I felt taller, slimmer and that my core was more tightened. I actually found it easier to suck in my upper belly (the one I HATE that I’m sure I’ll lose last & dictates the size shirt I wear just because I don’t want it to be tight on that area).
With each step, I smiled internally.
Later I was perusing my fb fitness community newsfeed and came across this quote:
“It takes 4 weeks for you to notice your body changing, 8 weeks for your friends to notice, and 12 weeks for the rest of the world to notice.”
How true! Although this was my “week 12”, really I didn’t start being consistent with healthy food & doing exercise EVERY day until Feb 21st which means I just finished week 4 and like clockwork, finally noticed I looked a little slimmer. This really got me feeling excited again like I did 4 weeks ago when I began. I just keep at it and in 8 more weeks, I could really be getting back into a lot of clothes in my closet. Maybe even before that if I keep losing inches – pounds be damned. What’s perfect is that my long family trip we’re planning in the summer is 14 weeks away. I should be a lot more comfy in a smaller body while enduring over 40 hours of traveling.
I swear I felt lighter & smaller the entire rest of the day after my several pick-me-ups and realizing my potential. And right before bed I had someone comment on my fb page “You are doing awesome! Your dedication is contagious”. That put me on high so much so that I really had a tough time getting to sleep! I hate when I get all inspired and motivated at 11pm! Ugh. Why can’t I bottle that shit for the night so I can sleep & open it up and enjoy the next morning?
Nope, instead I tossed & turned… saw later hour after later hour and then dreamed about fitness & weight loss (of course!) Then I woke up at the dreaded 4 hour mark when I had to pee. What’s that you ask? Well, I unfortunately can feel very AWAKE after just 4 hours of sleep, however it can only sustain me for about 3 hours and then I’m ready to crash again… like big time.
Plus my right leg ached (story of my life).
Time for some Advil & a banana and oh hell, why not blog while my baby is asleep & won’t bother me? Shit. I guess I can’t really call her my baby anymore… she is after all, a toddler. 16 months old as of yesterday.