That's nice.
The weight continues to melt off. Some weeks it's just pound or so, some weeks it's nearly five. But EVERY week it's down, and every week I have clothes that fit differently.
That's nice.
I'm doing well with the exercise. I continue to hit Aqua Fit a couple of times each week, but more importantly, I've stumbled onto a new routine that gets me walking a consistent 10,000 steps at least five days a week.
That's nice.
I feel great. I sleep wonderfully. I feel strong. For the first time in my adult life, I feel "in control" of my health & fitness. For the first time EVER, I feel like I could outlive my Father (He passed away at 54, which is just 6 short years away for me).
So, that's nice, too.
However (you knew that was coming, right?), I'm finding myself pleased, but impatient. I feel like I've figured this thing out, I'm just waiting for my body to catch up, and I'm just "ready" to be at the finish line. It's not that this new way of life feels like hard work anymore, and it's not that I want to go back to my old habits. I'm just ready ... for the payoff. I'm ready for the finish line, and dammit, I'm only about 40% done.
Sigh.
So, I'll continue. I'll continue to eat well, continue to walk tons, and continue to add more exercise & continue to find better food options.
In other words, it's nice, and I'll continue. A shot of motivation would be nice, but I'm pushing for my Century Mark on April 1st, and that's a really great thing, right?
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