Over the past twelve weeks I have participated in the Biggest Loser contest at work. Today was the final weigh in and I was a tad disappointed. I had set some really high goals for myself, but ended up only losing 12 pounds over the past 12 weeks. I found myself feeling a bit discouraged that I hadn’t lost as much as I had hoped for, and the process just feels slow.
Then I got to thinking. Since having my second baby (I had two in less than two years), I’ve lost 30 pounds. I’m 25 pounds under my pre-pregnancy weight and only about five or six pounds away from my weight on my wedding day.
One pound a week doesn’t seem like much, but experts say that 1-2 pounds per week is best for long term weight loss and that you’re less likely to rebound when you lose small amounts consistently rather than large sums sporadically. So I did some math. Shocking, right?
If I continue to lose one pound a week, by the end of this year I will weigh less than I did at my high school graduation (10 years ago). If I keep up with one pound a week, I will be at my goal weight by my husband’s birthday next year.
That still seems like forever to me, but I have to remember where I started. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t struggle with my weight, or when I wasn’t classified as “heavy” or “the chunky kid”. I’m not just trying to drop a few pounds for swimsuit season (which doesn’t really exist in West Texas any way). I’m working to be healthy, to love my body, and to change my lifestyle so that one day, it won’t be work, it’ll just be the way I am.
I’ve already made huge improvements. I look forward to my workouts (it’s even what gets me up in the mornings). I like eating more vegetables, even leafy ones. My clothes are looser. My thighs are looking pretty damn awesome, even if I do say so myself. I don’t tire as easily. I feel good.
When I had my gallbladder and bile duct removed, the surgeon recommended that I walk as much as I could to help regain my strength as I recovered. I had a good twelve inch or so incision and standing up straight was hard, let alone walking, but I did it. I walked, very slowly, and not for very far. Then one day I noticed that I was keeping up a pretty good pace, and I wanted to go farther, and then keep going. Suddenly, I even had the urge to jog a little. Now, I look forward to getting to go jog at night. My husband says I even get grumpy if I don’t. It didn’t happen over night, but every little step brought me closer to where I am today, and will take me farther in the future.
So when it seems like your progress is slow, be encouraged my lovelies. Keep at it and you will meet your goals.