I'm 24m (25 in a month) at 230 pounds, down from 253 pounds from when I started calorie counting (256 at my highest). Thing is that the last time I tried to really lose weight, I was at 230 pounds. I worked out but didn't diet at all apart from a small attempt at juicing. I lost about ten pounds but that was it, I eventually gave up and ate myself all the way up to 256.
Now for the first time in my life, I'm truly truly losing weight and I'm furious because if me from two years ago had done CICO, who knows how much more weight I could have lost? Where would I be right now? Thing is that I even knew calorie counting was probably the right way to go, I just didn't want to do it.
But at the same time...I really tried to start calorie counting during the quarantine and I really tried to start writing my book and progress has been coming along on both fronts. I ended up with a first draft of around seventy-three thousand words and though it ended up freezing because of narrative mistakes, I started a second draft fixing the mistakes. As said, I've lost twenty-three pounds. And all this in just a few months, doing progress little by little. Just walking five/six miles a day, working out and eating so much less calories (and I'm still eating more than most here).
Suddenly all my goals - beyond just weight loss - seem possible and doable instead of being impossible tasks. Learning another language? Just a little bit of progress every day will stack. Learning how to garden? Little bit of progress every day will stack. All I have to do is try.
Why didn't my twenty-two year old self try? I want to go back in time and shake him shouting at him that if he just starts now, he can become so much better at twenty-four. I guess the only thing is to start now doing that little bit of progress so that my twenty-seven year old self won't be wishing they could travel back at time wanting to shake sense into me.
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from loseit - Lose the Fat https://ift.tt/2FswYrC
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