This past Saturday morning, I tentatively stepped on my scale.
Adam and I had gone out the night before. We went to a restaurant called Ember's. I ordered a fun, fizzy cocktail, and we split an order of spring rolls for an appetizer. Adam had a steak, and I devoured the most amazing burger with a side of duck fat fries and aioli.
Obviously I wasn't looking forward to my weigh-in that following day. Even though we had followed dinner with a trip to Half Price Books—which always includes me practically sprinting down every aisle in glee—I figured the scale wouldn't be too pleasing.
I closed my eyes. Opened them. Closed them once more. And then finally, I looked down.
"What? No way," I said, seeing a beautiful, low number on the scale. "That can't be right."
I stepped off the scale and back on again.
The same number appeared.
I picked the scale up, released the batteries and blew some dust out of its insides.
And yet? The same number.
I am now down 12.5 pounds!
And I could not be prouder.
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Woohoo! Congrats Jenna! I'm so proud of you, and so cheering you on! All that working out is bound to have positive effect! Thumbs up and bon courage! :)
ReplyDeleteThat. Is. Awesome!! I am so happy for you!! It's all about moderation (and apparently that red wine!) Great job Jenna. Keep doing what you're doing.
ReplyDeleteWOOHOO! You are rocking it!
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