progress report.

I'm almost at the end of Week 3 of the EZ Diet, and I have lost a sum total of (drum roll, please!) 6.2 pounds.

Yep. That's less than I'd lost by the start of Day 7. I've actually gone up.

Well, that's not entirely true. I've gone up a little, down a little, up a little, down a little. Staying almost entirely in the same two-pound range. For WEEKS.

It's maddening.

The worst part (for me) is that I have honestly been following the eating plan to a T. Usually, when I'm on a new plan, I'll still indulge in a little chocolate here, some potato chips there, the occasional soft pretzel (my Achilles heel). 

I have done none of this.

I am still not losing weight at an Agony-acceptable pace.

(Fuel to the fire: Mr. Hope has lost something like 13 lbs. on the same plan. We hate Mr. Hope and his freakish ability to drop weight just by thinking he might start a diet.)

I am still working out nearly every day, though, and Mr. Hope is not. Could that have something to do with it? Yesterday I did 27 modified push ups. Not all in a row, mind you. I did 15 in Round 1 and 12 in Round 2, with about a minute thirty in between. This is still huge. When I started working out in earnest, almost a month ago, I could barely do three. 

So there's that.

I know that muscle weighs more than fat, and that it could be that I'm burning fat and building muscle. More likely, I am starting to build muscle and that's making me retain water (as has happened in the past when I am strength training).

But but but

The Agony part of my brain is screaming IT'S BECAUSE YOUR HORMONES ARE FUCKED, YOU NITWIT. OH, AND YOU PROBABLY DIDN'T OVULATE, EITHER. 

I think this because historically, post-O, I start dropping weight like crazy. My body loves progesterone. Seriously, LOVES it.

Right now, I feel like my body hates me. And it supersucks to be at odds with your own body, like, constantly.

So, I don't know. There's a lot going on in my brain right now that has nothing to do with my Pillsbury Doughboy bod, either. Work is insane. My schedule is insane. I am insane.

But I'll power through. I'll keep exercising, keep eating according to plan. Minimizing the insulin spikes to hopefully turn myself into a healthy, welcoming vessel for the embryos I hope to be transferring before Christmas.

Which reminds me: Today is Kindred's transfer date! I am so so so excited for her. We had dinner last night (a little pre-celebration) and she was glowing already. Thinking positive, sticky thoughts for her and hoping that today is the start of her rainbow baby!