The challenge has been issued.
The gauntlet has been thrown and the war declared between me and my agonizingly slow metabolism. Frankly, it has completely ticked me off!
I set my goal this week to push harder than ever, determined to have a 5-pound loss. Gym workouts six days (cardio and weights, all with increased intensity). Three mornings of 4:15 risings in order to do 45-minute cardio workouts from home. Two spinning classes (which was a huge feat in itself as I feared spinning more than anything else and have now become addicted to it). One-hour workouts with my incredible trainer, Joe, from Elevations in Marshall Creek. Diligence with my calorie count, where I struggled to eat enough to sustain the work I was doing.
I sweated, I hurt, but my Type A personality kicked in and I was a woman on a mission.
I faced the enemy scale certain that I had won this battle – but there it was again, my consistent, 2-plus-pound loss. Yes, I was happy about that, as well as discovering, along with weight loss, I’ve lost just under 21 inches on my measurements. But like an ecstatic child at Christmas surrounded by gifts she’d always wanted until she noticed the gifts others received, I felt that slight pout in my heart that said “I want that, too” and I envied the 5 and 6 pound losses of others. But, it is what it is. I know, for certain, it’s not for lack of doing the right things.
If history repeats itself, as we near six weeks into the Race, my brain should finally get the message to my metabolism about what it’s supposed to do. Of course I’m basing that on what happened in my 30s, a time when everything about my body worked and cooperated better. In my 50s, it’s not necessarily so true.
So, BRING IT ON, my middle-aged, hypothyroid-riddled, sluggish metabolism. I’m gunning for you. The attack is planned. I’m figuring out your secrets and how you operate. YOU’RE GOING DOWN!
