By The Numbers...And The Other Numbers...

I asked my husband last week - when I was "having a day" - to look at photos taken of me from the last time I weighed what I do now and to tell me if I look the same. He said flatly, "No. Absolutely not." 

Incredulous - because numbers do not lie and my body dysmorphia is absolutely bananas - I insisted that I must look that way...because that's what I weigh!

But he insisted, "You do NOT look like that. Not at all. Your body, your face, none of it. You do NOT look like that."

I wanted to believe him - I really, really did. But...the guy loves me...so, he's as blind as I am. 

Right? 

Then I remembered I keep meticulous measurements and have been since 2009 - I measure myself with each weekly weigh in (arms, waist, hips, legs, bust, etc). With this information, I'd surely be able to prove him wrong...and proceed to wallow in self-pity for a while. 

But he was right! 

With the exception of my hips and calves that are only slightly larger, today's measurements align with a 30 pound lighter me from the last go-round. 

It's a lot different losing with a fitter body than with a flabby body. Glad I kept the records. It truly is about more than just pounds!!!!

I don't know how this stands to tamp down my body dysmorphia - at all - cause it's really more of a mindf**** than not...but at least it's a good one this time!  

Oh, and I am officially down 40 -- and a LOT more than that if you're counting back from the very beginning of this journey...but I'm not willing to share how much just yet. 

Ain't gettin' to 50 before vacation next Friday...but whatever. It'll be waiting to go when I return. 

Sugary Sluggishness

Ehhhh...not the greatest week I've had, but most definitely not the worst. I'm just not feeling the losses (3.3 pounds, 2.5 inches) the way I normally do -- though, clearly, by the numbers, they're there. I used my bike and Nordic Track skier 5x and got an Ellen Barrett Grace & Gusto in there too.

Maybe it's the sleep deprivation courtesy of Daylight Savings.

Maybe it's the hangover/Saturday carby goodness that came before it.

Yeah, ^ that's most definitely the culprit.

After four straight weeks of being on plan and really sticking to my guns, I decided to drink a bottle of wine by myself on Friday night. Usually, not a big deal.

But, with few calories in my body and no tolerance left to speak of...

Yeah, kind of a big deal. Ugh. Headache and desperate need for spongey, doughy, ooey, gooey calories came next. What's really weird? I didn't WANT them, I just felt like I needed them. I don't know if that's ever happened to this carb-o-holic!

Fast forward to today, I'm still bloated and bleh. Down on the scale. Down with the measuring tape. Just plain down.

An odd combination, to be sure!

So, today it's 25 on the skier, 30-40 on the bike, lots of calisthenics, clean eating and an early bedtime. At least, that's the plan!

Hopefully tomorrow will have me feeling like myself again - and FEELING motivated instead of relying solely on the scant motivation living inside of my sugar-detoxing brain.

A Fish Called Shannon

When I was a kid, you'd practically have to pay to get me out of the pool. Even when I was a bit of a chunker. My parents called me a fish. We had a backyard pool for a good portion of my childhood and even after we moved, I spent weeks of my summer driving out to the lake, slathering on sunscreen and hanging out with friends. In college, I joined a local gym and swam there.

I took my last swim in the summer of 1999. I remember it clearly. I was at the gym ... a gym I was spending less and less time with since I had turned 21 and realized beer was a much more enjoyable pastime once it had become legal to consume ... the gym was crowded and I felt really self-conscious.

And I never went back.

Then, life got in the way. I moved to New York, got a really demanding series of jobs and then I got fatter and fatter and fatter.

There was no way in HELL I'd have ever gotten into a pool after that.

Until yesterday!! Our complex pool opened on Memorial Day and I woke up ready to swim. So, I put on my first bathing suit in 13 years and swam - first, for about 2 hours and then I went back again for another hour.

Talk about a non-scale victory! Only 38 pounds to go!