Note: I wrote this last night, before weighing this morning and discovering I’d lost a pound.
For whatever reason, I haven’t lost an ounce of weight in a month or so. I’m working out, eating clean, (admittedly not drinking enough water), but nothing’s budging. I hate plateaus.
Even though I’ve broken my compulsion of weighing every day, I’ve been obsessed with the number on the scale and when I do weigh I’m just really disappointed.
I’ve needed a new way to measure my success. The answer came in the form of a pair of jeans.
I friend of mine ordered a pair of jeans that, once arrived, she didn’t like. They are dark wash, which I like; my friend likes a light wash. They are a size smaller than what I wear, but my friend insisted I try them on. I didn’t want to bother. After all, I haven’t lost any weight which must mean my size hasn’t changed, right? Wrong!
The jeans fit and I bought them from her. I wore them to dinner Sunday night. I didn’t have to lie on the bed to zip them and I was able to breathe normally throughout the night. I compared them to the jeans I had been wearing, and they are indeed a bit smaller. (I didn’t want to attribute fitting into the smaller size to a different clothing manufacturer’s sizing.)
Something as simple as wearing jeans one size smaller has given me renewed vigor when it comes to staying the course with my food plan and exercise program. I like how things are shaping up.