When I started consistently working out again (around the middle/end of January) I had big hopes for changes. I know what I weighed around the time that I started, but I’m not in the habit of regularly weighing myself.
We have a scale in our bathroom but I’m never tempted to step on it. Recently I did step on the scale and I was super disappointed to see that the numbers hadn’t changed at all. I was reminded about why I don’t step on the scale often.
Two weeks ago I started working with Ivanna on a 6 week workout plan. She’s helping me tremendously by telling me what to do each day at the gym and I love it. Last week was my very first week and I’m embarrassed to admit that I totally lost my rhythm by Wednesday. I had an unexpected meeting at work and I missed my opportunity to go to the gym. I took Thursday off because I had several doctors appointments and I missed my workout again. I missed two workouts within the first four days.
It wasn’t a good start.
By Friday I pulled myself together and did my 3rd scheduled workout. Saturday and Sunday I completed the last two for Week 1. This week I’ve stuck to the schedule and I proud of myself for doing so. I told Ivanna that I feel strong, and that is the truth. I don’t really feel all that bad about the scale because I know my body feels different.
And then something else happened.
It was my friend Jenny’s birthday and I decided I wanted to wear a dress. With hesitation I picked out a dress that I hadn’t worn since March. In March it was a struggle to zip it up. My girlfriend actually had to zip me up while we were in Vegas. And the zipper only went up after I removed my bra and replaced it with a thin bandeau top.
Last weekend, I put on the same dress and zipped it up all by myself. The dress fit!
It felt so good and it reinforced my feelings that the scale isn’t the authority on my body, I am.
I’m not perfect, but I am making progress.