I’ve been lingering right under 50 pounds in my pursuit of losing 100 pounds. I have been at the gym quite a bit lately, and I know that’s holding the scale hostage somewhat. I am going broke buying clothes and have purchased my last until January unless I go through such a weight loss spurt my pants won’t stay up.
I’m trying to save money, which isn’t easy where I’m at right now. Redoing my wardrobe every six-nine weeks isn’t helping, nor was that $1000 worth of deductibles from the robberies. I’m going to Hawaii in March, regardless. I will figure it out.
My trainer said I was pushing myself too hard. I never, ever, thought I’d hear a trainer tell me that, but she did. I tried to tell her that if I give in to the fatigue or side effects of the Tamoxifen, I will never reach my goal. This is my life now. Push, push, push. Rest on the weekends. Push, push, push.
It would help if she wouldn’t start me out with 50 pounds on certain apparatuses, but she does. I give it a shot, but usually have to cry uncle. Loudly. Then she looks at me and says, “I keep forgetting you are over forty.”
Between my trainer and the aqua fit class, I am usually exhausted by the time Friday night rolls around. Not a weekend party girl, anymore. I’m not boring, I just need the rest.
Yes, I do have more energy than I used to. Much more. I feel so good most days. Still not sleeping well. I don’t think I ever will. So I will sleep somewhat adequately and keep pushing.
Those who know me wouldn’t expect anything less.