My blog post from the other day got such an awesome response. The blog hits were great (yes, bookmark me!), but I got so many wonderful comments on Facebook. (Hey, you people can comment here too, you know!)
Some of the comments talked about my weight loss, while others told me that I motivated them. Me? Holy shit, that’s some serious pressure! Speaking of which, my husband said that now that I put the word out, I can’t gain the weight back. He means this in a loving, joking way, because otherwise, he knows I would have to choke him out.
A few people even mentioned the sweet look on my son’s face in that photo. Yes, it’s so freaking awesome that he doesn’t care about my weight. However, he also doesn’t know how much of a problem it can be—when shopping for clothes, when trying to keep up with him and his extremely tall father, at the doctor’s office, etc. Of course he doesn’t; the kid eats a donut almost every single day and has recently dropped a couple of pounds.
Naturally, a lot of people also asked, “Where the hell is the after picture?” I understand. It’s sort of a tease to not deliver the goods.
The thing is: I want that “after” picture too, but I’m not even close to the finish line. I’ve lost 35 pounds. In my before picture, it looks like my boob alone weighs 35 pounds. I’m working on it. I can tell you that I’m stronger than I’ve ever been and feel better than I did in my 20s. (I smoked A LOT back then.)
That said, here are two “during” pictures, you jackals. I still can’t take a great pic. Just know that I’m still going strong…