Exercise is getting easier -- namely running. I'm trying to work up to 30 minutes at 5.0, which is no small feat for a girl who finds running quite challenging. Ultimately, I'd like to get to 6.0 and higher. With every pound lost, that goal becomes more and more realistic and -- dare I say it? -- easy.
The newest struggle I've come across is thinking about the old me -- me in November and December. Me a year ago, even. I look at old pictures and I feel... awful. I don't ever want to go back there. My progress is enough to inspire me to keep going, but when there's the occasional comment of, "You look MUCH better than you did before"... I don't know. I guess I just feel sorry for old me, fat Amanda. I liked me. I worked really hard to like me, even though many people tried very hard to get me to hate me. I very much enjoy who I am now. I'm healthier, have more energy, and I'm more happy. So, does old Amanda have to be put down like that? I guess I'm worried about what happens when I plateau for a long time, and I'm stuck being "just okay." I hate failure. I'm not sure why I'm having difficulty with this. Maybe I just need more time to settle into me and accept that this is who I am now.
What's nice is that my change seems to have inspired a lot of people I know to get more serious about what they've got to do for their health. It's nice to hear. I never thought I'd be an inspiration of any sort, let alone a weight loss inspiration. I plan to check in with picture progress again when I'm officially below 200. That could take another 5-6 weeks. Who knows? Maybe longer. I am proud of my work, though, and I will continue working. By the holidays next year, I'll be ridiculously "better" than before. I might even be okay with that.
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