A Pound of Flesh…uh…Fat

A pound of fat. Blick.

I have been at a standstill in probably the world’s earliest weight loss plateau in history.  As I mentioned in my last blog post, even the holding pattern can be instructive, as I teach myself to pay closer attention to what exactly I am eating.  A tablespoon of peanut butter here, a teaspoon of mayo there…it all adds up, more quickly than one might expect.

I had weighed myself earlier this week (probably not a good idea, since we’re in the monthly vortex), and there was no indication of change.  I rather expected the same today when I “officially” stepped on.  I had not stopped my eating plan, but I had added some exercise this week that may have helped to shake things up just enough.

Stepped on the scale this morning, and after the numbers got done fidgeting, they settled on one pound less than earlier this week.  I am encouraged.  Is it “only” one pound?  Well, as I reminded myself some time ago here on the blog, a pound, when you hold it in your hand, is a bit of weight (think of a pound of butter from the store…well, almost literally)!  And when it represents deliberate choices and divinely-fueled determination, one pound can take on epic proportions in significance. It becomes a treasure.

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