I see progress on the scale - at least mostly. And I'm wearing smaller sizes. And I friggin' ran SEVEN MILES tonight. Could I have done that in December? Not even with a gun to my head. Then why can't I feel proud. Feel progress. Feel the effort??
I'm frustrated. All of this feels like something I HAVE to do. Like a chore. I rarely enjoy it. I like cooking - I like cooking healthy meals. Tonight's was gorgeous, healthy, filling and under 300 calories.