There is no way I should be as frustrated as I am right now. Maybe it’s the fact that I had reverse insomnia: I woke up at 4:45, and couldn’t get back to sleep. That’s 5 hours of sleep (ugh). That can put you in a bad mood.
Why am I frustrated? I lost 2 more pounds this week.
I needed 3.
I am now 1 pound short of 40 lost for the year.
One lousy pound. I worked my butt off this week. I wanted to get to 40 so bad I could taste it. There are a couple of reasons for this. One, it’s the milestone. Hitting milestones gives you an extra shot of energy to continue the battle. My ultimate goal is 50, and I have 6 weeks to get those 11 pounds before our anniversary trip. That’s two a week (do-able), with 1 to give.
There’s no room to slip up, though.
Now, I know that it would still be easy to say I’ve lost 40 lbs, in the way I say I’ve been married twenty years, even though that milestone won’t come till July 10. But weight loss is 80% mental, and once you get to the point I have, you have to approach it like an athlete. You have to dig deep, push beyond what you think you can do, light the competitive fire.
So, 39 it is. Just doesn’t have the “flash” of 40.
And if my doctor is reading this, no, I’m still not anorexic. I’ve moved to emphasising the exercise side of the weight loss equation. I’m still getting 1400-1800 calories a day. I even had Monell’s last Saturday, and Chinese takeout last night (probably why I didn’t get that 3rd pound).
Anyway, back to the grind!