So I was at the gym last night, which is a normal occurrence. I'm still a little bit reticent to do things like lie on my stomach on hard surfaces, but the rest of me is fine.
Anyway, trawling around he gym, I pick up a five kilogram dumbbell.
Five kilogram dumbbells are de rigeur for me. The get used for all sorts of things - triceps, biceps, lunges, occasionally for core exercises. They're a gym standard.
Today was a bit different. See, I've lost five kilograms in the last few weeks. Yes, I'm trying, and yes, I have a hell of a lot more to lose, but there is something tangible about carting around a five kilogram dumbbell and knowing that this is no longer a part of your body. Walking around the gym floor with the dumbbell in hand let this sink in.
I know once before, when I lost a lot more weight I'd go to the supermarket and shove the corresponding weight amount in flour or sugar into a hand basket and walk around the store, just to get some perspective.
My cat weights about six kilograms. I've nearly lost a Lucifer. And he's a big unit.
Sure, it's only a small step, and I have to keep moving forward, one kilo at a time, but it was good to give myself a little bit of validation last night.
Strangely, it felt pretty good.
Onwards.
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