It’s been kind of a plateau month. The initial burst of awesome is subsiding, and now I’m settling into life around 175. I still want to lose that last 15 pounds — or at least ten — but things are going a lot slower.
I’m realizing that the process feeds on itself: if I’m actively losing weight, it’s easier to stick to Plan. If I’m stalled, it’s easier to say Fuck It and eat a box of mac and cheese before bed.
I’m also realizing how the little decisions can affect the end result. I’ve tried putting visual reminders on the fridge and in the pantry — I’m not allowing myself to buy any more clothes until I reach my next five-pound mark, so I have some White House Black Market catalog pics posted where I can see them — but they’ve become part of the scenery, and I either scoff at them or ignore them as I’m reaching for another snack.
But every little Point really does make a difference in the bottom line, whether I want to believe it or not. I’m going to have to go all-out for a while again to make this work.