Saturday, I got dressed. Glimpsed in the mirror and actually liked what I saw. A rarity.
Excited. I called my daughter in my room for confirmation and she too agreed. I’m looking more toned and there’s noticeably less back fat (with no girdle thingy even).
Somethin’ about looking good that makes me feel good. I realize, I put a lot of emphasis on the way I look and perhaps I don’t tout the health benefits of losing weight as much as I should. Believe me, I am grateful that by changing my ways I have increased my odds of living better and longer, reduced the stress on my heart and knees. But coming from a place of morbid obesity and losing 170 odd pounds, it’s hard to look in the mirror and still be confronted with fat. I mean, I lost the equivalent weight of an adult male. So to still look in the mirror and be fat… I know, I know. I shouldn’t, but I do. Anyway, I’m not even going there right now.
Rather, I’m celebrating. Celebrating health, fitness. Celebrating my hard work and dedication. Celebrating my success.
For once, I looked in the mirror and didn’t mind so much the way I looked.
There was a rare sighting this weekend. I’m working, however, on changing that to a common day occurrence.