When I don't believe the scale (whether I think the number is too high or, less likely, too low), I try again until I get the same result twice. I seriously thought it was too low this morning. But it only took two tries to get the same number. Between last Monday and this one, I've dropped another 4.5 pounds.
Yes, I'm staying within my calorie target and yes, I'm moving my butt, but I was creating significant calorie deficits between December 26 and April 6, as well, and not getting results like this. I would have to say, in fact, that in my 50-year dieting "career," I've never had this much success.
If you've yo-yo'd up and down all your life, as I have, you surely have some idea of how astonished I am. And if you've struggled and fought and done everything right and seen little or no results, then you must know how utterly GOBSMACKED I am.
And grateful. Oh, so grateful to have found a way to fuel my body that is satisfying and healthful and keeps its promises.
So. What is this purge of which I spoke in today's title? Well, I spent the morning of my birthday in my closet, pulling out things I thought were too big and then pulling out more things I thought might fit. Most of that summer wardrobe I bought two years ago is headed to Goodwill.
I'm keeping two pairs of linen slacks that are miles too big, but so easy-going and classy that I'll have them altered. One pair of capris has been a wardrobe staple this spring, now that they fit again. Another pair have hung, unworn, all this time because they were too small when I bought them. I'm taking them with me to Nashville this week.
I started on the dresser drawers, but ran out of time. Thus, the purge continueth, at some point. I'm not keeping anything that's too big. I don't want a just-in-case wardrobe. I'm sure you can relate when I say I'm never going to lose this weight again, but hear me LOUD AND CLEAR: I'm NEVER going to lose this weight again.
|The morning sky is on fire. And so am I.|