Weigh in day.
I'm almost ashamed to admit that in the last four weeks I've lost a paltry 1.5lbs. I lost a pound, a half a pound, gained half a pound and lost it again.
This depresses me because, in honesty, I've not been *that* bad.
Okay, so I've not been squeaky clean either but I've hardly been on a binge fest and being the weight that I am (which is mahoosive) it should still be coming off.
This week and last I've been good - well, 6 days out of seven. Saturday was a bit of a trainwreck but that aside I have been suitable depriving myself and eating healthy.
And yet the scales still hold a degree of fear for me tonight because I just feel stuck. I feel as if I did so well for the first two months but then it all ground to a staggering halt and no amount of walking, or pointing, or turning my back on sweets and chocolate is making a damn ounce of difference.
It's hard to force myself out to meetings now, knowing that the glow of a good weight loss isn't happening.
So keep your fingers crossed... and offer any and all tips you have for finding that enthusiasm when it feels all your best efforts are for nowt.