150

Way back in January, (when only about 3 people read this blog,) I wrote about my resolutions for this year. Hey, all the cool kids were doing it, so I thought I would too. (Insert cliche about jumping off bridge here.)

One of my resolutions was to lose a few more pounds, ten to be exact. I had worked really hard changing eating habits and basically getting off of my butt for the previous six months, and I saw great results. But I think I really underestimated how hard it would be to lose ten more.

For the majority of the year I have kept up a decent level of exercise-I walk at least 3-4 days a week. I sometimes even run for part of it. I do "floor work" (push ups, sit ups, etc.), although on an increasingly sporadic schedule. (Remember my quest for 100 pushups this summer? My arms rocked for BlogHer but then, meh.) I looked decent in a bathing suit in Hawaii (= knew no one except family=forgiving,) and didn't even put one on for the cruise. (I know! On a cruise! Crazy!)

Now we are creeping (ok, barreling) toward the end of the year and it is normal to look back and reflect on the things that we wanted to accomplish this year. I think that I was naive to think that I would find, or even make the time to get this done. As much as I love some exercise, I get sucked into other things, and don't have an 'exercise partner' that would help keep me motivated. (Any takers?)

Should I be able to motivate myself? Yes. Do I let myself off of the hook more often than I should? Yes. Am I going to beat myself up about it?

Absolutely not.

While I haven't lost any more in the last 10 months, I also haven't gained. Through vacations and parties, and eating crappy at times, I have not gained.

I see this as a victory of sorts. See, the fact that I still lace up my walking shoes on a regular basis means that I have made a lifestyle change that is for the long haul. The fact that most of the time (current week notwithstanding) we, as a family, eat really well is a nutritional victory for all of us. And it shows on my scale that my body can roll with a few punches and maintain my only-slightly-less-than-perfect figure. I'm ok with that.

Well, unless Carmen moves to my neighborhood. I have a feeling she'd kick my butt all over the martial arts studio and I'd lose those last few pounds.

The best thing that I've gotten out of this journey is that I love my body more and more, even in it's imperfection. I feel stronger, my skin is clearer; my mind is clearer.

And that's a great place to be, no matter what the scale says.