I’m not doing the right kind of exercise.
This is absolutely not a problem: my PT pointed this out yesterday, and I grasp entirely where she is coming from. Pure walking has now become insufficient to burn the calories I require to get my body to shift fat reserves that have existed for a very long time. If I’m going to move the last vestiges of my problem areas, I will have to work for it. That’s why I went to the Gym this morning and ran for 45 minutes before my scheduled Sports Massage. It is why I’ll do the same for the rest of the week (except tomorrow, I have a Mental Health Day with my daughter) and hopefully, by the time I get to next week, we might see some progress.
However, if we don’t, I’m no longer allowing this to derail any progress.
I’m plucking up courage to take some pictures of what has changed. My arms especially, bear no resemblance to the things they were six months ago. To do that, I need to be comfortable, and this is not the best time for this with the other stuff going on with the World, because I am not more than aware how ridiculous vanity seems when the World is going to Fuck. If you’re interested, and you read this, let me know in comments, because that a) tells me who’s reading and b) will provide actual incentive.
Needless to say, Hard Bastard exercise just got even tougher.