Reaching a small goal is a lot more stressful than I expected. Especially reaching it with just 0,1kg to spare. Because there’s no room for slipping of any kind. And even though (bar a snack or two at a party) I’ve stuck to my eating plan pretty well, I’m still fluctuating by about 0,3kg. So it means I’m hovering around my goal point. I can’t wait to break the barrier and plunge safely below it.
I’m also doing my utmost to not become obsessive about it all. I keep reminding myself how much I’ve lost in total, since I started keeping proper track in July last year. And when I’m feeling extra glum I remind myself of where I was at when I was at my heaviest. Because July last year wasn’t it, it’s been far worse.
Until recently the only real indication I’ve had that I’ve been losing weight is the scale (obviously), the reaction from people I haven’t seen for a while, and my wedding dress. But the last couple of days I’ve started seeing it for myself and, more importantly, “feeling” it. In the way I feel when I walk, how I sit and how my clothes feel on me.