I HATE THIS PART

So here's the thing.

I'm going to lose the weight I want to this time. I have no doubt in my mind. None.

Ugh, but there are lots of parts I hate. HATE. HATE.

Some people say getting started is the hardest part and I think that's a big, fat lie. Getting started is easy. Getting started is saying WOOHOO! and being all eager and bright-eyed and delusional about how long and hard this whole journey* is going to be. You don't think of it as a journey in the beginning. You just think, "Tomorrow I won't eat so many damn carbs and then I will be a size 6!"

It's after the first day,
the first three days,
the first three weeks
that it gets really hard.

Oh, before I forget! Here's the video from Week 4 which I forgot to post here.
I get stuck in my dress and I'm not even kidding. Also there's something about plus-size shopping.

Because that's when you're saddled with reality. And reality is: it's a millionteen times more difficult and time-consuming to lose weight than it is to put it on.

Suddenly you realize you really ARE on a fucking journey, not just a "let's try this out for a little while" escapade.

I will tell you right now: I have been on this journey for five weeks. I am doing fine. Food-wise I have been on-plan every day except ONE. And that was for a dinner party where I actually made Argentinian tamales with corn pudding and you'd better believe I ate them because that is the single most ambitious thing I've done in the kitchen in recent memory, save for when I tried to clean up "flour" while my toddler was playing with water in the sink.

Do not do that. Paste. Everywhere.

Anyway. Drink-wise I have had some cocktails here and there. (As such, I have learned that I can have a drink or two and not gain weight, but I won't lose any, either. MEH.) (But no surprise.)

I have not quite lost 20 pounds. Close, but no.

And that is wonderful, yes, except. UGH. I still weigh more than I did when I GOT pregnant with Towns.

I don't mean to set unrealistic goals. I haven't. The real issue is that I gained weight so quickly with pregnancy (and after it) that my milestones are all messed up.

• I need to lose 30 pounds before I am the weight I was when I got pregnant.
  Sigh. That wasn't so long ago.
• I need to lose 40 pounds before I am just about the weight I got to when Medifast was working for me and I was about to head to BlogHer '10.
  This means being able to wear all the clothes I bought around then.
• I need to lose 45 pounds before I FINALLY ACTUALLY FINALLY ACTUALLY weigh less than I did when I arrived in San Francisco. Ten years ago.
  This was my first target when I started Medifast the last time.
• I need to lose 50 (fucking) pounds before I weigh under 200.
  My actual first, big, scary, necessary target goal.

Fifty is a lot of pounds. 

Oh, I'll do it. It just means I'll be cranky in the meantime. By which I mean NOW, when I'm almost 20 pounds down and still not fitting into anything.

/cranky

In lieu of a video this week, here is what my progress looks like so far. (Thanks to my iPhone App called "Track Your Weight" and I can't link to it because I can't figure out how.)

For now, we're going to ignore that bright red "Obese" line along the bottom, light years away from my actual weight, that sort of makes it look like I've flatlined.

Next up? Telling you about my trip to the gym and meeting with a trainer where they hook you up to a machine that reads your body cells and then gives you a printout that looks like a receipt that tells you more about your actual body fat and water and muscle than you ever wanted to know. Kind of like the Wii except without the sad trombone music.