And so we come to another edition of Tales from the Scale. And first things first: we're down 20, Houston. Houston, we are down 20.
I present this month's documentation:
Here is the Then and Now side-by-side comparison (click on image to see it larger):
Much less of a Michelin Tire Man vibe in the present day shot, wouldn't you agree?
I'll admit it. I'm a sucker for a good before and after. I love that bit of visual proof. Now you see it. Now you see less of it.
And as I sit here typing, munching on a handful of sugar snap peas, I realize that 20 pounds seems like an awfully lot of poundage to drop in just three months. But honestly? I've been working my ass off. Literally.
Since January 6th, when I jump-started this whole fitness program, I have missed just two days of working out.
Just two. One because I was in a bad mood. And one because I had lady cramps.
I have also been following the Weight Watchers program (online) and I've only gone over my week's allotment of points one time, and came awfully close another.
In short, I've been taking this very, very seriously…almost as if my life depended on it.
But this success is also coming on the heels of waking up one morning in March and realizing, possibly for the first time in my entire adult diet-peppered life that what the number on the scale said had no bearing on how I felt, both inside and out. That, my friends, is a welcome change.
I added Jillian Michael's 30-Day Shred into my workout week. I do it two or three times a week, followed by a 15- or 20-minute treadmill run. On the other days of the week, I run, also on the treadmill. Anywhere from 20 to 30 minutes.
Just this past week, I've decided that my runs should all be 30 minutes, or at least 2.5 miles and thanks to a sweet friend who decided to hook me up with a Nike+iPod set up, I'm now able to track my runs.
I realized that I am running at just over a 12-minute mile pace. To hell with saying what I do is just jogging.
Sorry. I'm a runner now. It's official.
When I started back in January, I could only jog for one-minute bursts at 3.3 mph every 5 minutes. I tell anyone this who thinks, "I could never do that." I'm very much the proof you need that you can.
And with that, I'm looking at different goals. Fitness goals. Things like: I want to run a 5K race. I want to run 11-minute miles, or 10-minute miles. I want to get off my damned knees and do push ups like a real woman, baby.
I'm feeling very optimistic.
I realize that it is easier to not do it. I realize that brownies are really quite good. I realize that an injury could sideline me and send me into a downward spiral of inactivity. I realize that three months of hard work can slip away if I get cocky for even the smallest amount of time and think I've got this thing licked.
But right now, I'm focusing and achieving.
And don't worry, I am enjoying a brownie or two along the way.