Last night I was pacing the floor like a caged tiger. I could have eaten just about anything. I didn't. Okay, maybe a few chips, but not the whole bag, like I wanted to.
Today was weigh in day for the weight loss contest at the posh club. Before I weighed in I knew I was knee deep in the throws of PMS. An hour later I was TOM. Not surprisingly, I did not lose this week. I didn't gain either, so that is a relief. I am hopeful that next week will be an extra good week.
Here is a good thing: When I use the expresso bike at the black diamond level I usually come in way behind the "pacer" biker. Normally it takes me about 45+ minutes to do an 8 mile ride. Today? I BEAT THE PACER. That same ride took me about 32 minutes. What happened to my legs? My heart? I don't know but I like it!
Yesterday after my contest workout I sat down to have a cup of coffee before I headed out and I ended up chatting with an older/wiser friend who was having her post workout coffee too. (Kind of a posh club tradition) The older/wiser friend commented on my weight loss, and then in a surprise refreshing move, she asked me "But do you see it? Do you really feel it?" Which totally blew my mind, because just yesterday morning I had just been thinking that I don't really see it. I know this inability to see what we really look like is pretty typical, and it is my truth. I thought for a second and then I told my friend that the one time I really know this shrinking body truth is when I am half awake in the morning and I stumble to the bathroom I feel less physically burdened, I am lighter and freer. But do I see it? Only if I am looking at before and during photos.
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