I've stepped on the scale before and it said 256, but not on a weigh-in day.
I've lost EIGHTY POUNDS. One of my kids weighs 88 pounds. I've finally lost some of my baby weight - har har, har, har, har.
I didn't expect it today. OK, I kinda did. But we were away for the weekend with friends, and that's always a gamble.
Although, in retrospect, I didn't go on a bender, or do anything I shouldn't have. I stuck to the plan.
I drank almost an entire bottle of wine. That would have been a downfall.
And... a martini.
We ate out.
We were busy.
I didn't track my calories.
But other than all that, I planned well, ate well.
There were plenty of goodies I could have eaten, but I skipped them. I had strawberries, egg muffins, cheese muffins, pistachios, my tea... it worked out. And strangely, I didn't care about the food so much. Being able to open my suitcase and grab clothes that felt good on my body was way over the top hands down a better feeling than stuffing a sweet, gooey cupcake in my mouth.
The way I felt in my clothes lasted all day and into the night, and a cupcake doesn't last that long. An orgasm doesn't even last that long.