Actually, I should be pleased that it's not more! Having achieved quite well in my University exams, I embarked on a flurry of celebration which was definitely not what my weight goal required. And, so I see the return of that stubborn 500-600g - the same ones that keep turning up like the worlds most annoying door-to-door Jehovah's witness.
However, again, I'd expect to deflate over the next couple of days and I'm resetting my '57' goal to the 15th July. Seeing as I'll be away that weekend, I want to get there by then. I also actually took some progress photo's today to get a check as to where I am, looks-wise. I think I'm doing 'ok'. Definitely an improvement on last year. I'm not far from my goal, but would like to have less flabby bits - in common with nearly every developed-country female on earth. Sometimes I think, why not just settle where I am? I'm 'normal', I can shop and find clothes, I'm leaner that I was at 20, why not just be happy where I am?
Today I was thinking this over and realised something cool. I am happy where I am. I'm fine. I've been up and down the scales enough to know that my life will not be improved in any real way by losing the last 10 lbs. But, I still want to be a bit leaner. I can tell that I'm still carrying some excess, by bodyfat% is still about 27%. I'd prefer not to have overly lumpy bits when I wear a bikini or a no-sleeves top, my joints feel better when I'm lighter, my cholesterol still hovers on the border of normal/high, and, for many reasons, I want to be fitter than I am. My *big goal* is 52kg, but if I reach nirvana at 55 or 54 that will do.
Today I went shopping and, in the middle of trying stuff on, it gently occurred to me how far I've come. I used to absolutely hate shopping. Nothing ever fit right and usually I'd leave the shop, having bought nothing, feeling like I wanted to die. Then, usually, I'd console myself with something yummy, mentally berating myself for having a defective body shape. Today I was just like all the other girls. I was in 'Cue', a shop with notoriously small sizing, and we were all trying on dresses, some fit, some didn't. Some fit round the top but were voluminous at the bottom, one bagged out at the back. But, in all that time, I only had one body conscious thought and that was when I tried on an 'almost too small' size 10 and it gave me unattractive lumps under the arms. I thought 'ewwww, look at that fat', but quickly adjusted my thoughts to accommodate the fact that the cut of the dress was just too tight around the arms. Bodies come in all sizes and so do dresses. It's not the fault of the body if the dress is the wrong size. What a concept.
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