Progress?

In the last two weeks, I have worked out all days but three.
I have lost three pounds.
I have tried several new recipes and said "no thanks" to lattes.
And in the last 30 minutes I've eaten 3/4 bag of veggie crisps.

Life as a fat girl isn't really that bad. In fact, who can argue with daily naps, gallons of ice cream and pitchers of margaritas? Well, my clothes argued, I guess. The week after my wedding, I tried on several pairs of pants Monday morning before finding a pair I could squeeze into. That wasn't all that surprising, considering I'd eaten like I was celebrating a marriage the entire week previously. What was surprising, I guess, was that I am doing something about it.

I joined Weight Watchers within days and am what some might call "obsessive," but I prefer "committed". I already have all my goals planned out - a new purse at 10 pounds, shoes at 20. Vegas in January where hopefully I'll flaunt less-cellulited thighs. And when I hit 200 pounds, I'm buying a new wardrobe. Hopefully that'll fall in line with graduation and the honeymoon to SanFransisco.

But what I've learned this time around - because not only have I been a passenger on the weight loss train before, but was 30-pounds lighter with W.W. in 03 (note:after gaining that 30 back, I packed on 20 this summer. Birthday cake ice cream be damned!) - is that this is a journey. Some days, I'm not going to work out. Some days, I won't resist the bag of veggie crisps.

But somedays, I'll hit the elliptical machine like I'm running because I love it. And somedays, I'll pass up gelato because I know I've hit my max points.

Every day, I get better. And hopefully, smaller.