Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Progress: Weight Doesn't Matter

I started Primal Blueprint knowing I was pretty fit and didn't have a ton of weight to lose, just some muffin top to banish and some toning to do.
I didn't expect to lose 10 lbs in the first 3 weeks. I also didn't expect to plateau for week 4,5 and 6. The needle on my scale hasn't moved much in the past few weeks (2 lbs). I just might toss it out the window- not because I'm angry at it, but because weight doesn't mean all that much!

We've all heard the "muscle weighs more than fat" adage. Technically, muscle has denser mass than fat, but I'm just nitpicking here. As I've browsed the Mark's Daily Apple Forums, I've read it over and over- your body composition is changing. Pay no attention to the flashing numbers! I wanted desperately to believe it. I thought maybe I felt it. I knew my skin was better, my nails were harder, my energy was up, and so many other beautiful little benefits. I pored over "before" pics and 1-month-in pics, mentally grasping to the little lift in my bum, the slightly smaller love handles, and the beginnings of my killer ab muscles peeking out the edges of my mama chub. I could swear my jeans were slightly easier to pull on.
Then last night I went shopping with my husband. Normally, this is a stupid thing to do and only ends in anguish, impatience and a flippant "I don't care!" as I mope to the car. To do this on Valentine's Day seemed idiotic. The shop we went to seemed like even more of a set up for disappointment as it was obviously geared to the younger-than-us crowd. (Obviously younger than us, evident by the fact that the music track sounded like a 12 year old was singing and made us both want to gag!) Alas I was in a good mood and decided to give some jeans a whirl- and maybe a pair of cords too. I grabbed a "realistic" size and a "hopeful"size and asked the squeaky dressing room attendant to let me into a stall. Then I stood in the dressing room marked garishly with "Princess", just GAPING at myself. The 11/12s I had grabbed first didn't fit. They fell off. The "hopeful" 9/10 jeans fit like a glove. My adorable husband made that "oh baby" face when I walked out. :) The cords ended up being those skinny pants that I have loathed for so long on others and secretly wished I could wear without looking idiotic. They had a little stretch to them and fit gorgeously on my thighs and calves, but were a little loose in the waist and butt! I got to ask for a 7/8!! The 7/8 fit beautifully all but being a little snug on my powerhouse crazy thighs to be flattering, but I fit in them!! Without sucking in!! I haven't been in single digits since I was sixteen!
As I woke this morning, still high from an amazing Valentine's night with mine, I started to come down to earth a little. "It has to be the store's sizes," I thought. I stepped on the scale... no change. Then I pulled out my tape measure.
I wish I had taken my measurements on day 1. Alas, the first time I thought to do so, was February 6th. 9 days ago. That's not a lot of time for change. But I told myself I would be objective and gave it a go. I had to measure everything 3 times to believe it.
The only place I didn't lost inches was my bust line!(You read that right ladies!)
Waist is down 1/2 inch, Butt down an inch, hip line down an inch and a half, thighs down an inch! I lost half an inch almost everywhere else and a quarter inch off my forearms. In nine days.
I feel amazing- and now I have the mental place to match it.
And that ladies and gents, is how weight doesn't matter.

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