huzzah!
My scale isn't entirely clear, exactly, on precisely how many pounds I may (or may not) have lost, weighing myself four times a day after this first week of candy-cutting-out and treadmill-aching, but it appears it could be in the range of five to eight pounds.
I am trying not to wet myself. Five to eight pounds! I'm out of the two fifties, that ugly place, and down in the two forties, and it feels really good. I know the majority of it is that first-week water weight plummet, but this is a gift horse I will gently pat on the nose and feed a cube of Splenda to, and there will be no prying open of its jaws.
And here is where I pledge to not burst violently into tears or throw my hands up in the air and eat a ham, when next week I do not, in fact, lose five to eight pounds.
I am trying not to wet myself. Five to eight pounds! I'm out of the two fifties, that ugly place, and down in the two forties, and it feels really good. I know the majority of it is that first-week water weight plummet, but this is a gift horse I will gently pat on the nose and feed a cube of Splenda to, and there will be no prying open of its jaws.
And here is where I pledge to not burst violently into tears or throw my hands up in the air and eat a ham, when next week I do not, in fact, lose five to eight pounds.
This entry was posted by anne, on
Wednesday, November 17, 2004.
You can leave your response.
leave a response