So I feel like if I can manage to behave myself over the weekend, I am on track to knock off the last of the four pounds and see that scale sitting on 140 on Monday morning.
And so I was thinking. "Well, sure, I've been hungry, and I miss the cake. But this hasn't been so bad. Perhaps I should just target a few more pounds, just one more size..."
Where does it end? At what point is it that I will stop feeling fat?
When I used to weigh 275... the very idea of weighing less than 200 seemed like nirvana.
At 200, well, then 180 seemed like a good weight to be.
When I weighed 165 and finally was in a weight range considered "not obese", I was ok for a while, but eventually, I just started thinking that I need to be less.
I now weigh a weight that I literally have not seen since I was a young child. I am in a proper weight range for my weight. I am healthy. I am fit.
What's with the yearning?
I suppose that's a central question in life... as we all yearn for something. But I keep reaching goals that I seriously though were unattainable, and all it makes me do is think that perhaps, I could just go a little... bit.. farther.
Stupid brain. Maybe it would shut up if I gave it some cake.
PS - on re-reading this, it seems whiny and pathetic, but I'm posting it anyway... if I can't whine here, where can I?