As I have been losing weight I have been collecting clothes. I have a ‘set’ of clothes for each size from 26 to 20 of a jean skirt, black and khaki pencil skirt, jeans, and a few sweaters and shirts. (The last time I lost weight I got rid of everything then gained my weight back so I had to re-buy everything. This time I’m won’t need to use it, so I feel like doing the opposite of what I did last time is a good luck charm of sorts. It’s stupid, but offers me comfort.)
Anyhow, last summer, I was swimming in my size 22 denim capris so I thought surely I had bypassed 20 and needed 18’s. Erm… No. I needed the 20’s. Ever the optimist, however, I decided to keep them because I would totally be fitting them by July. Or August. Or September? Ah, yes, September. They ‘fit’, meaning, I could button and zip them but they were so tight they did that weird camel toe thing that is not a camel toe but totally looks like one. TIGHT. Muffin bubbling over the top, my gut suddenly expanding several inches as fat was displaced requiring, not the summery tshirt, but the bulky camouflaging sweatshirt. But, they ‘fit’.
This morning I was digging through my drawers looking for something cute. I found a familiar pair of size 18 capris. They totally fit.
After my run yesterday I felt (like an athlete, like I can do anything) like I should take a day off of exercise. I told myself all day that when my brain started gnawing at me about running that I would jaw back that I need to take a healing day off! I came home and Bradley was really excited to go for a walk. How could I say no to that? So off we went. I laughed to Bradley about how I totally went against my plan. Secretly inside I didn’t count it as a walk even though we kept a great pace and walked for a long time. I counted it as a social activity which was a milestone in a completely different way. Exercise as fun and recreation? Welcome back in earnest!