My new gym opened up 29 days ago. According to the online check in, I’ve gone in 27 of those days. And it’s starting to show.
In the past 4 weeks I have dropped: 14cm around my waist. 3.5cm around my hips (come on, hips! Shrink already!). 2cm around my arms. 4cm around my bust (measured each Monday morning after feeding the baby). And 9cm around my thighs.
I haven’t stepped on the scale yet today. I’ve decided not to at home today. I torcher myself every Monday by weighing myself at home multiple times and then get upset if the scale at the meeting doesn’t match. Hello! Different scale, crazy lady! I know better. I just seem to enjoy driving myself crazy. Well, not today. I did my measurements; I’m very happy with them today. That’s enough for now. I’ll just cross my fingers and hope for a scale loss too. If there’s no moment for the second week in a row, I will look at how many centimetres have melted off me and hold my head up high.
My wonderful motivator, Hubby, says he’s noticing a difference in my body. Yep; I am too. I no longer look 6 months pregnant. I look 4 months pregnant. Maybe in another month or two I will no longer look pregnant; just a little chunky. Hubby says I don’t look pregnant and that I stopped looking it in two months of having the baby. He’s sweet. And I don’t believe him. Or I see myself much differently than he does.
I’d love to be able to see myself through his eyes. This is a man who clearly loves me for me since he has been with my through my biggest years. Looking back at the pictures, I was huge. I didn’t realize I was that big for a long time. I just didn’t see it. Did he? I was also with him during his biggest years. I loved him when he was soft and squishy and comfortable to curl up to; and I love him now with his tight muscles. He physically feels like a different person, but he’s still the same great guy I fell for. The same great guy I keep falling for over and over again.
I consider myself super lucky to have Hubby. In my meetings I hear woman complain that they have to make two meals; that their husbands don’t understand or support them; that it’s a struggle at home. Hubby has lost a lot of weight. He’s been in my shoes. Only he didn’t need WW to keep him accountable like I do. To each their own, right? Hubby understands what I’m going through. It helps to be able to try out WW recipes or tweek our favourite recipes to be healthier and have him okay with that. He’s always looking for ways to add flavour and subtract fat. He’s okay with skipping the pop and chip aisle at the grocery store. He’s on board with berries for dessert. He’s loves trying new produce we need to google to figure out how to pronounce them. On days I’m being lazy and don’t want to go to the gym, he’s pushing me out the door with my gym bag. He tells me I’ll feel better once I’m done. And he’s right. I always do.
Monkey #1 does his best to support me too. Yes, he’s always bugging me for candy and McDonald’s, but he’s freshly six years old. That’s what they do at that age. He does ask for lots of berries and fruit too. And he goes to my meetings with me. He loves coming along with me. Since I don’t really know anyone at my meetings, I enjoy having him with me. He reads Captain Underpants to me most nights before the meeting starts.
I have a great support team here in my home. With them, I can achieve my goals. It’s only a matter of time and hard work.
I can’t wait to get to my meeting tonight. Not only to see what the scale says, but to find out more about a new contest WW is putting on. I want to hear more. What’s it about? Will there be prizes? How’s it going to work? I’m so curious!