All right, so I wasn’t perfect last week. So what? You know what happened when I got on the scales on Saturday? I was down 1.8 pounds. That, right there, is progress. And that progress didn’t come from perfection. It just came from actually trying, from working hard and not giving up because I didn’t quite do everything.
Part of me, of course, is saying stupid things. “You could have done better, if you’d just hit your calorie goals.” “You could have lost more, if you’d just walked more.” But that voice isn’t important, and it isn’t carrying the day. Sure, maybe I could have done better. But “maybes” and “perhapses” and “if onlys” and a $1.50 will get me a 20 oz Coke Zero out of a vending machine. They aren’t worth anything, is what I’m saying, and I’m not going to indulge them
Now to do it again this week. Because, as I keep trying to remind myself, I’m doing this for health, not just for weight loss. I’m changing my life, not hitting a target and then stopping. And I can see that life change, even if I haven’t yet hit my final goal. Because I’m more than a hundred pounds lighter than I was when I started this project more than two years ago, and I’ve kept it off despite distractions and stress and illness and injury, and that is success.