Busting at the seams

Well, it’s about time I shared some good weight news with you all, huh?


This morning, after 2 months of my crybaby dieting, I FINALLY busted through the plateau I have been on since the beginning of August.


Yep, I reached the magical number of 176.4, and I gotta tell you- it feels fantastic!


In spite of yet another Butter Burger from Steak ‘n Shake, a piece of birthday cake, an entire can of French Fried Onions, and a whole mess of other crap foods in the last 7 days, I managed to pull myself out of my slump by the boot straps and work through it.


But I’ll be honest with you. I wasn’t sure I was going to make it.


In fact, I was trying to figure out a way to gracefully bow out of the blog, because I was feeling like a horrible example for you all to watch. I was almost ready to chuck it all, when I made one last final ditch effort to change the scale. And that effort was exactly what I needed.


What in the world did I do?


Besides going back to food journaling (if I bite it, I write it. Food choices look much more shocking on paper) I started pushing myself after walking group to walk home from the mall, giving me an additional 2.8 miles after we cruise through 2.5 miles at the mall.


Yeah, I forced myself to walk 5.3 miles 3 times a week. And you know what? It was just the kick in the stretchy pants this girl needed. Now, I don’t recommend that you do the same, as poor Lee Ann and Kara discovered last night. I’m sure after our jaunt home that they are hurting like holy heck this morning. Sweet kids. Advil makes it all better, I promise!


But for me, I needed to give that extra push to get things moving. Plus now I can say that I am officially at a 62 pound loss. And still going. Because now that I have hit that number, ain’t nothing gonna stop me now. I feel totally refreshed and restored. (Well, more like re-sored. I hurt a bit too.)


So the Lotte Berk experiment was a total bust. And the couch to 5K didn’t work out either. I’m just not a runner. It doesn’t feel good to me, and after weeks of hanging on to the frail skills I had for week one, I finally gave up.


But walking- that is something I can do. And I enjoy it. A lot. I even enjoyed going a full 6 miles!


So instead of giving myself a ridiculous goal that I can’t do and don’t enjoy, I am going to stick with walking. In fact, I am going to try to get in 100 miles of walking in the month of October.


Which I know, sounds like one of my crazy hairbrained Lucy schemes. But walking is easy. And if I can plow out 5 miles 5 times a week, then I can do it. And I already have 11.3 miles under my belt. Which means I am over one tenth of the way there.


On the days when I don’t feel like walking (like today, when it’s cold and rainy outside) I will just hop on the treadmill and do it one mile at a time. There’s nothing that says it has to be in one big swoop. It’s kinda like the scale. You can’t expect to drop 10 pounds over night. You have to do it one pound at a time. Sometimes one ounce at a time. And other days, you just can't give up, no matter what the scale says.


So that’s the word, bird. I’m on my way to the land of 160’s. And I can’t wait to get there.


It’s nice to be busting at the seams because of shrinkage instead of the alternative!