Last week I used up the last of the five introductory pilates classes I'd paid for. Today I made the commitment and spent $240 on 20 more classes, which, at once per week, should last me roughly five months. I used some of the money from my extra work project this time, and I actually wrote pilates into my budget so that I will be putting $24 per paycheck into savings to save up for the next 20.
The tape measure isn't telling me much is different, but I feel like I look a lot better. My clothes are mostly fitting better, I look cuter in pictures for the most part, and I don't feel as much of myself touching other parts of myself when I bend forward to ride my bike.
The biking is going really well. I get a little faster every week. On weekends, I do a LOT of walking, since I depend on foot and train to get most places. Once in a while, I take a Lyft, especially if I have credits, but really only for places that are kind of far to walk to.
The food is mostly going well, too. My silly little carrot-and-peanut-butter lunch seems to be a really workable solution. It has enough fiber, fat, and protein to keep me fueled until I get home, and few enough calories that I can still eat pretty much whatever I want for dinner. Dinner is usually relatively healthy: almost always vegetarian and vegetable-heavy. But once or twice a week it is also a few fast food tacos (sub beans for beef).
Once in a while, I get a sweets craving (as evidenced by last night's cookie nomming), but I'm pretty lucky that that isn't my weak spot. My weak spot is undoubtedly liquid calories.
Swapping green tea for my previous heavily creamed coffee is helping, I think. It has the double-benefit of burning extra fat
, plus also cutting the calories in the soy creamer or half-and-half.
But I do still drink kind of a lot of calories outside of my 48 oz. of daily tea. Mostly red wine, hard cider, and vodka lemonades, lately. I have been getting less drunk most weekend nights, though. And I have been cutting down on the Sunday Funday festivities considerably. I got way too sick of Monday hangovers. Weeknights depend; I might have nothing, or I might decide I desperately want one when I get home, which slowly stretches to three over the next five hours—relaxation instead of inebriation, but still fattening.
I suppose I'll find out tomorrow when I get on the scale what kind of progress, if any, I've made since last week.