You guys! You guys! OMG you guys!!!
I went to a pot luck this weekend at a friend's house. She happened to have a scale in the bathroom, and I thought "...what the hell". It's the first time I've gotten on one since I started.
You guys. I looked at it. Stepped off, turned it off and back on, and did it again.
42 pounds. Even wearing all my clothes, full pockets, belly full of potatoes and chicken and blueberries. Holy buckets. Now, it'll probably be another fifty before I feel like I can see a difference... but geez I felt high. And honestly? I didn't think I'd lost anything. I even asked my husband what he thought and he gave me a crappy answer. I truly was sticking to it because whether or not I was losing weight, I felt a holy hell of a lot better. I didn't care if I lost a pound--I was just happy I wasn't having constant heartburn and nausea.
Cheers for MDA ;0)
“Falconry is not a hobby or an amusement; it is a rage. You eat and drink it, sleep it and think it. You tremble to write of it, even in recollection. It is as King James the First remarked, an extreme stirrer up of passions.” --T.H. White, The Godstone and the Blackymor
"The world must be all fucked up when men travel first class and literature goes as freight."
- Gabriel Garcia Marquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude