This magic moment

I am good at imagining things.

I can look at an old dilapidated house and see how it will look all fixed up. I can envision an artistic project and bring it into fruition. I can follow this current eating plan and imagine how I will look when I reach my imagined goal.

So what happens when it turns out that last goal may be way out of reach? I have plateaued. I have not lost a pound in two weeks despite eating less than a thousand calories a day like I have for six months.

Despite losing 75 pounds, my weight is not within the normal range for BMI. My waist is not under the number of inches necessary to avoid the dangers of diabetes and heart disease. Although I can wear pants that are actually half the size I wore six months ago, I have only gone down one or two top sizes. There IS room for improvement!

I look fine. I feel great. I have energy to burn. I am evidently just supersized for life!

I've stepped up the exercise some, but there is only so much the bones and ligaments in my feet will tolerate. I'm not giving up, but it looks like I better learn to live with this weight.

It is hard to do that. I am good at working towards things: my next trip to visit Bestest, finding my new perfect chair, paring down my accessories, -- I like a goal I can sink my hopes into and this particular one seems to be coming to a halt.

This is the moment where I quit dreaming of that size ten and start looking for cute 2X sweatshirts. It is hardly the success I have dreamed of for six months, so I guess that is my new goal . . . being happy with what is.