I’ve lost 33 pounds.
Why am I not raisin’ the roof? Dancin’ a jig? Kissin’ my big rump good-bye? Because this was the news two weeks ago, at the month 2 mark.
I’ve lost only one pound in two weeks, and it’s beyond frustrating. I knew I was due for a plateau, but I didn’t know they lasted so very long.
Here’s what I don’t understand about plateaus: You read websites and hear people say all the time, “Your body just isn’t used to being a smaller size, and it wants to equalize, so it’s hanging onto the weight.”
First of all, my booty doesn’t have a mind of its own, so no, it can’t sit down over coffee with my triceps and thighs and say, “You know what guys? Something just doesn’t feel right here. Let’s just hunker down until this storm passes.”
Isn’t it just simple math? If I am consuming, at max, 1,200 calories per day, and I am burning at least between 300 and 400 calories at the gym, then that leaves 800 calories for my body to use in its daily goings-ons, what with keeping my organs functioning and my heart pumping and all that important stuff that takes energy to accomplish.
So, if my body needs energy to do all of these things, and it’s not getting that energy from food, then WHY IS IT NOT GETTING IT FROM FAT? Where!? Where is it getting it from!?
I’m still breathing, aren’t I? Systems are go -- I’m still alive -- so where could my body be getting its energy?
It’s just baffling. And beyond annoying. And if I hadn’t been working so hard for the past 2 1/2 months, I’d want to tear through a bag of Cheetos as a spiteful, frustrated, “I don’t even care, so there!” kind of gesture.
I guess I need to do something to change it up. Maybe I’ll just eat lean protein and vegetables for a while so the reserves of carbs and fat in my calorie intake aren’t there.
Or maybe I’ll have a talk with my booty later on, in case it is in cahoots with my triceps and thighs. It’s time I tell ’em who’s boss.