I've been having a rough week, obviously.

I'm at a point where I don't have much more "work" to do in terms of losing weight, but I am just at the beginning of the hardest part--appreciating my hard work.

It doesn't feel like hard work, to be honest. I guess that's a good thing--if it wasn't too hard to lose the weight, then it won't be too hard to keep it up. If I was crying and dragging my feet the whole way, I would just gain it all back, right? But since I've been reasonable, I'll be able to maintain what I've done.

Of course, losing weight was plenty difficult, and I earned my success, and I deserve to be proud. I'm just remembering all the times I tried to lose weight before. Why didn't it work? I'm just going to chalk it up towards my attitude. This time around, if I messed up and ate 5 cookies, I just let myself forget about it the next day. Didn't beat myself up and started fresh. Which was important, because I have a way of beating myself up (see previous entry if you don't believe that.)

The physical aspect of losing weight is mostly done, but I just don't "see" it. I wonder when it will finally click.

Yesterday was a year.

To be honest, I didn't write an entry because I am disappointed in myself, which is about as twisted as I can get. I didn't lose all the weight that I wanted in a year, so I failed. It hurts me to realize that's what I really believe. If losing 56 pounds in a year isn't enough, what will losing another 10 pounds do? That's right. Nothing. I won't ever be satisfied. Because I still think I'm fat. FAT IN A SIZE 6. What a ridiculous brain I have.

So, I made it through the holidays without gaining a pound. Ok, I probably gained a pound, but then I made damn sure I lost it! I am now -54. It's taken 2 months to lose 3 pounds, but I have been expecting it to slow down for some time. I have started to increase my calories because I find that I am hungry all the time (ALL THE TIME) and not eating enough isn't going to do me any favors in the weight loss department. That used to be counterintuitive to me, but no longer. Find where your body is happy calorically (and that can mean more!) and you will lose weight! Huzzah!

For financial reasons, I have decided to let my gym membership lapse. Yes, I was bored--so I am going to try something new. I have started walking with one friend once a week (which is all she can fit into her schedule for now) and I am going to use the gym at my place of employ two times a week (as they are new to the whole fitness game.) So, if I'm still bored when I get to hang out with my friends and sweat, well, I'll still have to keep going but at least it will be free!

Thinking more and more about going back to school to study nutrition. I know I have the right attitude, and my personal experience might be more inspirational to people than getting advice from someone who has always been stick thin would be. The one drawback is that I have absolutely no science background, so I would have to basically start at square one. But if I did end up going, I would probably be the most shocked of all. How can the fat girl be studying nutrition, and help people alter their diets to be more healthful? What time warp did I just wander into that I am even considering this?

Damn and blast, as they say. So, I finally went to the gym last night, and discovered two things.

1. I am not as out of shape as I thought I would be, given the fact that I haven't done any exercise in a month or more.

2. I am BORED.

Bored with losing weight, bored with trying so hard, bored with what my gym has to offer. I did some light weights, then tried cardio, and after 10 minutes I said to myself, "DONE." Not because I was out of breath, or that I even broke a sweat. I just didn't want to be doing it. But I want to want to, sadly. I want to find a way to get myself engaged with it again! I guess losing most of the weight that I want has its drawbacks--what is left to motivate me to go to the gym except, bah, health?

My gym is also small, so it doesn't offer anything in the way of an aerobics class or whatnot. Just kickboxing--and although I would like to, in theory, be able to kick off someone's face, I don't think it's a wise first step. Also, taking a class costs extra--if I did it 3x a week, it would be something like an extra $60 a month--more than my total gym membership. Sigh.

I think that I may, once my membership is up in February, look around for a new gym with more classes included in the cost. In the meantime, I may go to the library and borrow exercise DVD's. Which makes me feel a trifle lame, but I also feel lame not going to the gym. Which, I suppose, is better than not feeling lame at all, sitting on my butt, and gaining weight back.

I am so hard on myself. I've been sick for the past 2 weeks, and I haven't been able to go to the gym in all that time. Truth be told, I wasn't going as much as I would have liked in the few weeks before that, either. And even though I am still losing weight, it's just not enough anymore. Maybe because I am afraid that if I don't go to the gym, I won't be losing in the "right" way, and then all the weight could come back. Which is foolish--even if a few pounds were to come back, I would, um, NOTICE.

Want to hear something silly? I'm afraid that someone will stumble onto this blog, and read only the most recent entry, and assume I am one of those stick thin girls who think they are fat at 105. Which goes to show 1. my ultimate lack of faith in others and myself and 2. how strongly I still identify with my heavier self. Put me in a room full of people, I would stay as far away from the tall, thin girls as possible. Not that I've ever been tall, but I could maybe call myself thin, someday. Some people even call me thin now, but I'm just not there yet--still have 15 pounds I want to lose. Which brings me to this:

51 pounds gone! Yes, of course I am proud of that milestone. It's a lot. I've finally reached an amount where I can't try to convince myself that I haven't lost that much. 51 pounds is a lot.

I turn 26 tomorrow. I wanted to be 145 by my birthday (a present to myself, maybe) and I am. Less, actually--143. 48 pounds.

I found some old pictures from my birthday a few years ago, and I almost cried. What a difference. I might have a hard time seeing the changes in my body when I look in the mirror, but pictures can't lie.

I talked a big talk when I started this blog--"I won't fail" and all that. But I really thought I would fail. I have no idea how I got here. 8 months, 32 weeks, and so much has changed.

The last 10-20 pounds that you have to lose is the hardest. If you need to lose 40 pounds, and you lost the first 20 pounds in 3 months, it will take you twice as long (or even longer!) to lose the next 20, because you're so close to where your body wants you to be. Well, it was bound to happen. 19 pounds from my goal, and losing weight has slowed to a crawl. 3 weeks to lose 1 pound. At this rate, it will be another year before I'm finished. I wanted to be done by February! I should blame myself at least a little--I haven't been to the gym in what seems like forever. I'm letting my life get to me--I'm stressed out over my job, and when I come home I don't want to do anything, especially go to the gym. I wish I had someone to go with, or could come up with a new routine, or somehow rid myself of the feeling that everyone is watching me as I barely manage to lift a paltry amount of weight.

I should really just shut up already. 47 pounds in 8 months is about 1.5 pounds a week--that's a damn good clip. If it slows down, who cares, as long as it keeps coming off, right?