Another Tuesday, another weigh in, and I gotta tell ya, my body has it’s own pace. That pace is as follows;
“wait for it… wait for it…. BOOOYAH!”
Translation: I plateau for at least a week and then slough a load of weight. My body thinks it’s funny, and I’m always game for a good joke. Especially when it means that while I weighed in at .2 lbs heavier last WI, the scale today showed a 4.4 lb drop. This is with both weeks being pretty comparable in points and workouts. Yeah… I’ll take that.
When I first started Weight Watchers in September, I had just started walking several times a week. The combination of beginners WW loss, plus that increased movement had me dropping about two and a half pounds a week. I knew that the losing wouldn’t keep up that pace, but I was careful so’s to maximize my losses without setting myself up to fail. By this, I mean I ate every point and drank every ounce of water. As a matter of fact, I also eat at least half of my weekly points (if not ALL) as well; I like my food, and hate feeling deprived.
Now I have stepped up my walking/running to three times a week, with two intensive workouts with my friend, the Fitness Nazi. Then on Saturday is my treat; I go for a longer run . All. By. Myself.
Just me and the iPod, and baby? It’s bliss.
Before you get any ideas about me being all tough, I gotta be honest, the above mentioned? That’s the plan, but it’s not necessarily what happens. Three little kids, Kindergarten, Preschool, and two separate Nurseries at church… we get sick a lot. And the Saturday run is done at a pace that is slower than most people can walk. But my lungs are different now. I CAN run. I can skip rope for a minute without stopping to sob for breath. Sure, I have spent 2/3 of the past three weeks sore and whimpering from twice weekly Nazi sessions… but I can already do more push-ups. I can do actual push-ups. Actual-ISH anyway.
I can be strong. I will be strong.