Well, kiddos, I didn’t make my goal. Whomp, whomp. Technically, when I set out on this journey, I wanted to weigh under 200 lbs. by my 28th birthday on the 15th, which I still have time to make. However, I won’t. I’m not giving up. I’m not throwing in the towel. It’s seriously just not possible at this point with 8 pounds to go (unless I get that miracle!).
I changed my goal date to December 4th so that it would coincide with a doctor’s appointment, but a few weeks ago I had to reschedule an appointment and that put me back a week. I don’t weigh in at the doc until the 11th. With all this said, I was committed to keeping my goal date at the 4th because that’s what I wrote down and put out to the world. Here’s the thing, I should be devastated that I didn’t make it. I should feel like crap and put myself down for failing but I CAN’T. I didn’t fail anything. Look at me! I lost 84 pounds in 46 weeks. I feel amazing and I wouldn’t trade any cookie, bagel or missed workout. I lived life this year. Yes, it was EXTREMELY hard work and will continue to be a struggle every damn day but I definitely worked my real life into my new life. Of course, there’s a tiny part of me that’s disappointed I’m not where I wanted to be, but the rest of me is overshadowing that part and knows I’ll get there eventually.
When I went to Miami a few months ago, I woke up early on the last morning to watch the sunrise. It was overcast and there were clouds completely blocking the horizon. I was one of many people standing on the beach waiting for the sun to come up. In the end, it didn’t disappoint. It was painted with so many different oranges and pinks turning to deep gold and red. Regardless of a little cloud cover, the sunrise was still so beautiful. You, dear reader, are following me on this mission of mine and will hopefully continue to regardless of a cloudy day. I might not have made my goal but in the end I’ll still rise.
I’m not perfect. Not everything can go according to plan. When you fall off the wagon, get up, dust yourself off and start running. I’m assuming the wagon is being pulled by very fast horses. Something changed in me in the last few weeks and I realized this is a marathon and not a sprint. It’s not about losing weight the fastest I can, it’s about getting rid of the weight and NEVER gaining it back. I used to beat myself up and get discouraged by a number on the scale and then I woke up.
As long as I move in the general right direction, I’m going to be successful. If any of you are disappointed in my failure to reach a goal, sorry I’m not sorry. I would usually say a favorite four-letter F word to you but I like to save those for special occasions as I have to apologize to momma whenever I use one.