I'm starting to resent the trip back home I took in May. It was essentially an eating trip, and it's absolutely thrown off the trajectory of my weight loss.
I was already reaching a plateau before the trip, and afterward, said plateau seems to be more like a floor. I haven't been able to get much further than 173.8 since April. I thought I had plateaus before, but this one is for real.
I'm already exercising four times a week, so that leaves calorie counting. And I can't say I've been very good at it since May.
This past week was terrible. I started it off by caving into a Pizza Hut craving and ended it with a work lunch that canceled out any work I had done to mitigate the pizza.
Cutting any more calories means drinking the rancid SlimFast shakes twice a day, instead of the breakfast dosage I've been chugging down since, well, forever. I've been neglectful of fruits and vegetables as of late, so I'm reintroducing them to my diet. The dirty secret of weight loss is having a regular bowel movement — you could lose a pound by having a very productive sit-down. (Yes, that's TMI.)
At the same time, shedding 40 pounds is not subtle. People who see me notice. And in another bit of mixed news, the size 36 jeans I bought because I couldn't fit the size 38 jeans are also now loose. Damn it, I sank $30+ on three pairs.
I'm approximately 10 pounds away from my goal, and it's always the last 10 pounds that are hardest to shed. I think maybe I should settle in with being comfortable at 175 pounds.
I would very much like to see myself at my ideal BMI weight (166 pounds), but when I look in the mirror now, I actually don't mind what I see.