it's all pretty splendid, right now, but i am at a rather dangerous point in this journey: i love myself now. already. i think i am so dead hot, so sexy, getting firmer and stronger and skinnier every day. at 72kg. bmiwise still in overweight-land.
but clothes fit, and they fit well. i bought two dresses at the flea market on saturday, kinda thinking they could be goal dresses, and instead they both fit perfectly. one is a (vanity) size six. and yesterday, i bought a dress i'd been ogling since april. i'd tried it on, once, and it was too small in an l (or xl, maybe?). and now i got it in an m. and at 50% off. and it looks awesome.
i could totally be this weight for the rest of my life, and be happy and content. albeit, i don't want to. i want to be harder, better, faster, stronger. fitter. i want to take up less space, be lighter, a runner. me. just new and improved, by my very own hard work.
this (small, awesome success) really is should not be enough: if it's so great to buy clothes now, how awesome and easy will it be at minus 7 kg? if it feels so light and easy to run week three of couch to 5k, how awesome will it be to feel lighter and stronger when i run my real 5k on september 13? (i've totally signed up, oh yes.).
i love myself, and life, and everything.
last night, i struggled to go to the gym for the second time ever. the muscles beneath my shoulder blade had majorly cramped up (again), i was tired and hungry and whiny. but i went. and did the weights circle, and the power plate, and then i ran my podcast and all but two of my machines. and then i did a back strenghtening class, just because. and felt better. so much better.
my back, unfortunately, isn't much better yet. could hardly sleep last night. date with the physio is booked for this arvo. can't wait.
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