As the weeks tick by, I'm watching myself get closer and closer to my goal.
Only to become more and more petrified of what happens when I eventually step on the scale and it doesn't move.
You know, because I like to worry about things that haven't happened yet.
Like what's going to happen when Prince Harry marries someone I don't approve of.
(Teenage Leah is so shocked at how Grown Up Leah admires the red-head WAY MORE than the other prince. Also, I may have watched too much London Olympics. Just saying.)
My point, clearly, is that I don't wanna stop losing weight yet....
Especially since I know that the first 20 is the easiest.
You know, cause I hit 20 last week.
And I am ecstatic about it.
I just remember living in agony at how slow it went last time.
So just for kicks and giggles, I did a little digging.
Last time, when I was 16 weeks in, I posted this post.
And the data that I have says that I had only lost about 9 lbs at the end of week 15.
(Yes, data. As in, it's all in an excel spreadsheet with charts and everything. I think we know how much of a nerd I can be, right???)
Anyway, that would put me way ahead of the curve this time.
But I'm pretty sure it had alot to do with this.
And since I have been routinely monitored for my thyroid issues, I haven't had to fight that losing battle this time.
But that doesn't mean I'm not going to hit a plateau.
I mean, anytime you are losing more than a couple of pounds a plateau is almost sure to happen.
So I am on red alert.
To be honest, I really expected this to be the week.
However, that didn't end up being the case....
That's another 1.2 lbs. down from last week!
And as far as how that affects my size....
This week, I was able to squeeze myself into not one, but TWO size 8 dresses.
Now, OBVIOUSLY, dresses are MUCH more forgiving than jeans or shorts will ever be.
And as you can see below, my lower half is still much larger than my top half.
As always. I've never had the greatest legs (or butt, for that matter).
But that's nothing a little (read: ALOT) of running won't take care of.
If only I had a treadmill.
Or a husband with a more predictable schedule.
Or a double jogger.
But that doesn't mean I'm making excuses.
I will make it happen.
Some how, some way.
After all, all those size 8's and 6's in my closet are begging to be worn!!!