Saturday, July 06, 2013
Fact: I am oscillating between 150 and 155 pounds, and have been for a few months.
Last October, I was the lightest at 140.5 pounds.
I....I don't know if I care?
I watch what I eat; I don't pig out, I eat mostly healthy foods with the occasional treat, and I watch my proportions. I exercise relatively regularly; generally three hours every week minimum, with both cardio and ST. I am fairly trim.
I am just shy of 5'7" at 153 pounds (for argument's sake), and I wear a size 8, which is about the same as Coach Nicole (who we can all agree looks fantastic).
And here I am, about to go bridal dress shopping, freaking out because I might not be "skinny" enough and knowing I'll likely have to wear a 10 because, you know, bridal dress sizes are so much more specific.
I measured myself this morning:
A fairly in shape pear.
My fiance (woah, that word) thinks I look awesome. I still go out and have people look at me, surprised, and asked if I'd lost MORE weight (no, I've actually GAINED some, but thanks!).
I wanted so bad to be a 140 before. To do that, I went to the gym for 1-2 hours per day five days a week. I would take high-intensity aerobics classes and do an hour of ST. I cannot commit like that anymore--I have a full time job and a life besides, as well as nine hours of sleep to get each night (or else I'm exhausted).
In terms of everything else, I'm pretty happy. I like the way I look most days, I like what I do, and I'm healthy.
But for some reason, I can't let go of the fact that I used to be less than 150, like that is some vital thing that would make me happier. Honestly, I don't think I was happier at 145 than I am now--I'm (relatively) the same.
I can't decide if that's okay or not.