Do you have a scale? God that device is a bitch. And while I know that it's often better to ditch the scale, inevitably I'm back at the store purchasing another one. Having done that at least three times, our scale now hides in the closet, under the clothes and out of sight.
I know it's there and I've decided that while I hate it more than I don't, it's a check point for me to not go too far. That and the full length mirror in the bathroom keep me quite humble, yet I work diligently towards my goal:
I want to feel good naked by my 50th birthday.
I'm realistic. I don't think changing my body will magically make my life better, and I don't plan on becoming the girl who watches everything I eat and won't ever skip a workout. I admire that kind of dedication, I just get cranky.
I love food and I also love to laze around instead of go to the gym. But I also know that this getting stronger feeling, this 'my legs are rubbery from that class yesterday' feeling is a good one. The numbers aren't changing, but my head space is...and that makes every drop of sweat worth the effort.
