It's the last five pounds. I can't make it go away. Ok, rephrase, I can, but it is going to take more than my usual amount of effort. Which is not something that should in any way surprise me. Sometimes though that last five pounds is standing in front of me like Gandalf, yelling "You shall NOT PASS!!!"
I'm totally going to pass. Gandalf can bite me.
When it gets me down though, I like to kind of look at things through a different filter. Instead of just looking at pounds and ounces, I look at weight lifted, miles run, that kind of thing. And no matter what that scale says, I have made progress over the last two years. Yes, it has taken me that long. No I don't care about that.
I've brought my mile time down from 20 minutes to 13-14 minutes. I run longer and faster.
I can do proper push-ups. More than one or two.
I can bench press 50 lbs. Much improved over 15 or so.
I've shaved 8 inches off my waist and at least 5 inches off my hips.
Short version, I'm stronger, faster and more flexible, not to mention 35 pounds lighter. So Gandalf can shut it about that last five, I'll get it when I get it.
Progress is progress, no matter how small.
