I know this is starting to sound repetitive but: another week, another pound. I'm chipping away at myself like a sculptor with a gigantic block of petrified wood.
On one hand it's tempting to think that I'm currently only losing about four pounds per month, on the other hand at this rate in the course of a year there will be 52 lbs. less of me - it's nothing to sneeze at (well, unless you happen to have a cold).
My primary thought for this week is that working out six days a week means that you're pretty much sore somewhere all the time. I know this means my muscles are getting stronger, but ouch. Since it's grown cold I've started indoor power walking, a workout designed by Leslie Sansone. Aside from the music being horrible these are really good workouts - lots of sweat, lots of movement, no hard impacts and plenty of calories burned.
And tomorrow is Thanksgiving.
My plan is a workout, no second helpings, no dessert, skip the bread basket, and have what I truly want and will most enjoy. I've got a mean spinach, sausage and asiago quiche baking in the oven right now and I intend to enjoy it for breakfast tomorrow. My sister makes unbelievable stuffing with craisins in it and I plan to enjoy that too. I don't really expect to stay perfectly within calories, but nor do I expect to go over by a lot.
Saturday we're celebrating my birthday, which brings cake-related problems. Since I don't really eat desserts anymore - it's okay to have some cake on my birthday... right? I mean, it's my birthday.
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