It seems that as one exercises over a long period of time, changes start to appear. Each of my tiny changes have slowly crept up on me until the last 24 hours where they have all co-mingled into a surprising delight!
I've been pretty frustrated as the working out has gone on, and the healthy eating too, because the numbers on the scale just don't seem to be moving. Husband has been encouraging me to keep going, and the growing number of readers of this blog (see, I knew I could count on you!) make me feel responsible for pushing on. Thank goodness I have listened to all of you!
Although the scale isn't producing Biggest Loser results, I decided to dust off the tape measure and see if my body measurements have changed at all. Back in February when I started exercising a couple times a week I had Husband take measurements of my neck, bicep, chest, waist, hips and thigh. Last night I asked him to re-measure me in hopes that I'd be able to find some progress somewhere. The results were mixed; my neck, biceps, hips and thigh are all marginally bigger than they were before but my chest (why is this always the first to go?!?) and waist have shrunk. Initially, I was really focused on the larger measurements and felt like they overshadowed any loss in other areas, but Husband grinned and patted me on the back like a football coach and cheered, "Don't worry, things are moving!" This morning I sat down to do the math and even with the slight increase in some measurements, overall I've lost 2.5 inches of body mass!
Encouraged, Pooch and I set out to do a walk of the big-big loop in the neighborhood to see if we could beat our previous time. Unfortunately, even though I felt like I was pushing myself, we stepped into the driveway at exactly 45 minutes. I blame Pooch's potty stops every 50 feet for the time. On the plus side, although my calves burned and I could feel the little veins in my legs pumping like the bass at a 50 Cent concert, I wasn't exhausted or out of breath.
Feeling invigorated, I decided I'd keep moving by attacking a patch of weeds in the back yard. Finally tired 45 minutes later, I discovered that I had cleared a 3'x10' section of yard from the jungle of overgrown weeds and re-discovered a portion of the path that trails across our property.
I couldn't believe that I was able to accomplish so much, and keep moving at such a steady pace without needing to take a break to catch my breath. Out of the 90 minutes I was outside, I only needed to take two breaks. One break to chase the cat out of the compost bin where he was chomping on partially decomposed eggshells. A second break to dislocate my arm from my body and beat it against the side of the house, scream until my lungs shot out of my body into a projectile mess in the middle of the yard, kick and twitch like a rabid mutant ape-child and generally "spaz out" after a nest of baby spiders EXPLODED all over my gloved hand when I pulled at a particularly stubborn bush of a weed.
Baby spiders aside, I'm really excited for the direction that things are heading. Being able to move and work for well over an hour is something I haven't been able to do in a really long time, and although for some reason my neck is fatter than it was before I am pleased that my waist seems to be returning to its hour-glass form. I guess it just goes to show you that it doesn't pay to give up just because something is slow and the results aren't readily apparent. Eventually the tiny changes add up to success and give you the momentum you need to keep going.