Hello Sparkfriends! Long time no blog!
My last blog entry was a joyous one, reaching a size 8, even when the scale read 185.
And during my trip to San Francisco, I realized how fit I really am. J.D. and I walked about 7-8 miles a day while there, something I would have never done at 275 pounds. We rode bikes across the Golden Gate Bridge and hiked to the beach. I'm so active now.
And yet, after the trip, I am here now at 187.8. Still fitting comfortably in my size 8 shorts I purchased.
I can't figure out why, after such an amazing week that showed my fitness level, I still care so much about those stupid 3 pounds.
Or why I care at all how much I weigh anymore.
I don't want to give up on the scale, or on eating the way I currently eat.
But I have come to hate eating 1200-1500 calories, especially when I can eat 1800-2000 and maintain.
The 160s seem like an unattainable goal. And I'm sitting here why I even want to attain them.
It's because I've never been there. Not since 7th grade. And that was my idea of healthy.
But I'm a size 8. I run 5ks numerous times per week. And I can pretty much not track food and stay right here.
Do I suck it up and start back to the strict weight loss mode of eating even if it means being miserable, just to reach that 160 range?
No matter how many times I tell myself to ignore the stupid scale, it still matters to me.