It’s easy to get discouraged on a journey like this. After all, we live in our bodies, and sometimes we just can’t see the progress, even when the scales and the measurements and our clothes tell us it’s there.
I have been promising pictures for a while, so tonight I bit the bullet in this cold house and donned my shorts and sports bra (the black ones were dirty, so you get white this time around) and took a pic in my dirty bedroom mirror.
That pic on the left dates back to April 1, 2016. The middle one is from a few months later, in July. That right hand one was just a half hour or so ago (as I write this, though it won’t post til morning).
Between that middle and the now there was a whole lot of set backs due to injury and discouragement, with brief periods of fighting to get back to it.
I need to go to bed because it’s been a crazy long day, so I’ll leave it at that, but I’ll update the entry tomorrow morning when I’ve weighed myself.
ETA: Weight this morning was 251. Not bad. Not bad at all.