I told Dave (and the friend who is training me) that I wouldn’t weigh in or take my measurements or stress about my calories all month. They both told me to just do what I was supposed to be doing…strength training and cardio and eating healthy foods and increasing my water intake…and just forget about the numbers.
Well, I caved today. And discovered that I had gained another 6 pounds and a total of 14 inches. No wonder I have no clothes that fit. None.
So how does a person track success when the numbers all point to failure?
I feel stronger.
I am stronger.
I can lift Adelaide without any back pain. I can lift her wheelchair in and out of the van without even flinching.
I look several months pregnant. I had to wear a pajama shirt to playdate last week. But I also had more energy.
I still don’t know what to do with all of this progress that seems backward, but I’ll keep going.
Because Adelaide keeps getting bigger and needs me stronger. And I need me stronger, too. Even if it means that I am completely self-conscious about my entire body and am back up to my 2nd trimester weight. And my youngest will be two years old next month.
I’m also showing myself tons of grace. My body is not quite sure what to do after almost seven years of being pregnant, nursing, or both. Everything can’t level out overnight after such a caloric, hormonal rollercoaster.
At least that’s what I keep telling myself. So I don’t get into a funk and buy all those new types of Oreos I keep seeing. How many kinds are there now? It’s getting a little out of hand…