It has been a week since I last weighed in. I am down exactly one half of a pound. Blegh. I was hoping for something more... impressive. I probably should not have expected so much given the loss previously combined with my weight-gaining meds, but still, it stinks. To know that you are doing everything right, following instructions to the letter, exercising and eating right, all for a measly half pound.
On the other hand, I could have gained that half pound, or one pound, or more. I could gain back all that I started to lose. THAT would truly stink.
I have worked out every day, no breaks, including yesterday when weather started jerking me around, since the 11th of this month. I think that may be a record for me! Now when I say "work out" I am not talking about anything more than swimming and walking, but it is a great success for me. I feel better, mentally, when I have an outlet for all the pent up energy I get--manic or not. I hope that I will continue to get out and about--even for just a few minutes at a time.
I feel wrong. I feel off. I feel fed up with this stinking roller coaster. Whine, whine, complain. Moan, groan, etc. You get the idea.
So I will take my measly little half pound and hope that the coming weeks are a bit more impressive--or at least not gains.
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