Six months ago I set a goal weight for myself. No definite time range, just a goal weight. I stepped on the scales yesterday morning and saw the number I've been looking for. I'm now wearing clothes from the skinny side of the closet.
It was a relief. I've eaten differently, I've run more consistently. It's not always been fun, but it's been tolerable knowing that the weight was coming off.
After my run yesterday we had dinner. After dinner, Sara looked so pitiful when she couldn't find any chocolate to eat for dessert. I offered to take her to get a milkshake. The bride saw through my "generosity" when I said I'd get one for myself, too. I hadn't told her, but I'd long ago decided that when I did hit my target weight I was going to go get a milkshake. Sara later decided she didn't want a milkshake but rather sugar cookies from the grocery store, so I picked up some Edy's ice cream that had waffle cone bits, chocolate chunks and caramel swirls. It was so good that I wept as I ate it.