29 pounds in 33 weeks.
Trust me when I tell you that this will never sell on an infomercial.
If you have over 100 pounds to lose, you know what 29 pounds lost looks like?
It looks like nothing.
Ever seen those ads that equate ten pound lost with one pant size? Yeah, that’s wrong too. I suppose it may be true if you have only ten pounds to lose. But I’m wearing the same size I did the day I started. They are loose and I look like an ill kempt hobo but that’s not the point.
If you think I am upset about this, you’re (mostly) wrong.
I am impatient. I am often discouraged. I am SO ready to buy new workout clothes. I am beyond ready to wear the massive variety of clothes in my closet that I refused to get rid of when I gained this weight.
But can I let you in on a secret? I’ve already written the last post in this series. I’ve already declared victory. And I did it 29 pounds ago.
Ya’ll, that’s either Holy Spirit level confidence or complete idiocy. Some days I can’t decide between the two.
And the temptation to give up is so strong. I want so often to delete that future post. I want to write an apologetic paragraph and start pretending this blog never existed. I want to get lap band surgery. I want to get full body liposuction. I want to pay some skinny chick to impersonate me.
But I’m not going to do any of that.
I’m going to get up every day and attempt to live outside of bondage to food. I’m going to put on my pajama pants and go work out. I’m going to put that disgusting kale in my protein shake and try to be grateful for greens.
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