I’m coming towards the end of week 5 of working out and I’m really starting to notice some changes in my body. My butt is higher, I have so much more strength in class and I just feel like things are fitting better. Not bigger just fitting better.
In general I’m feeling pretty good about myself oh, I’ve even switch to wearing tank tops instead of baggy t-shirts to workout in which is a huge step for me. But then I was a total dumbass and decided to step on the scale this morning.
I haven’t lost a single pound. Still up over 334 pounds. What the actual fuck.
I know it was a mistake to weigh myself but I was feeling good and I wanted to see if the scale reflected that.
I should have known that bitch was my enemy.
But I made the choice today not to be discouraged, but to just make the decision that I am equally exchanging fat for muscle and that must be the reason why the scale said what it did. I am starting a carb cycling program on Sunday so we will see how that goes. And I’m on my way to my boxing class right now. In the past I would have let that scale determine whether or not I was going to have a good day. But not today Satan.
Today I’m going to box, I’m going to swim, and I have a gig tonight and nobody’s going to tell me that I don’t look better than I did before, not even a piece of crap machinery.
The Struggle of 39 