I feel like the sluggish bear peeking out from her winter’s cave. The sun’s getting warmer, the days are getting longer, and cabin fever is slowly making an exit. I would love to say it’s been a healthy and successful winter for me, but it has just been okay. Is it terrible to feel happy about “only” losing 10 pounds? I’m not proud, but I admit it is a huge relief not to inch up any more than that.
After last year’s weight loss, I feel empowered to tackle the 10. I found that as long as I’m out walking every day, the weight comes off relatively fast. It’s just a matter of making the commitment to START, then the “DO” just clicks.
I’m standing here looking out from the shadows of my cave, stretching and yawning, now quite ready to step out into the sunshine. I’ll start by going on a few muddy walks up the road, and by the time the snow’s all melted I’ll be in a rhythm. I really miss that feeling when you just have to take a walk, the day isn’t a day without it. Maybe I’m making excuses for not jumping right in again. The treadmill is all set up downstairs, sad and dusty from neglect. My parents are coming up next month which should be a motivator for me to lose some of this winter insulation. I’m waiting, waiting… I can feel the thawing, I’ll be ready soon.