A couple of months ago, I hit my limit. I decided that enough was enough; I wasn’t going to get any heavier than I was at that moment and I wasn’t going to allow myself to continue to be out of shape and tired all the time.
I bought myself a fitbit during the second week of February. I reconnected to myfitnesspal.com to track my diet. I started going in before (or staying after) the fitness classes I teach to get an extra hour of exercise in. I acquired an elliptical trainer to use on days when I can’t leave the house (because of snow, for example) or when it’s just too ugly to be out doors. I’ve convinced my husband to start taking 3+ mile walks with me when the weather’s decent.
I had a REALLY good couple of exercise/diet weeks, so when I went into the gym this morning to do my weekly weigh-in, I was looking forward to being able to log some good progress.
I didn’t lose a fucking ounce.
I’m trying not to get discouraged; I understand that it’s not about weight, that muscle weighs more than fat, that any number of things can account for the lack of movement, blah, blah, blah. I really wanted to be able to log a smaller number, though, and I’m not going to lie and say that I’m not pissed that I can’t.