What the hell, Tinkerbell?

Oh.

Me.

Go'ness.

Okay, so I was coming off a great Thanksgiving week, with a one pound loss. And right into new challenge: my company's annual Holiday Gala. This event is a lot of fun with lots of amazing food and wonderful beverages. I look forward to it all year and I knew I'd have some trouble controlling my intake.

So, I took a page from last week and tried to up my workout. Although, this time I did not have the luxury of time off from work. I did pretty well and averaged about an hour a day. My intake was pretty good. Not the best, but pretty good.

But then came. The weekend.

Oi.

Suffice it to say, the intake was not so good anymore. Lots of wine and snacks. And on Sunday I went to Perkins for breakfast. And I ate it all. Enough said.

Other than a piece of amazing red velvet cake, I did pretty well at dinner by giving away some of my food. Tip: sit with some hungry guys; I managed to get rid of 1/2 of my giant pork chop and the larger of my two roasted potatoes with very little effort.

Then, Sunday night we were invited to a gathering that involved more wine, cheese and desserts.

Double oi.

So, as you can guess, I was purty skeerd to weigh in with Jen today. Especially since this is the last weigh in for my 12 week experiment. I was hoping for a break-even so that my total would be 10 pounds for my 12 weeks. Not exactly reaching my goal, but nothing to be ashamed of, either.

All tingly and nervous, I approached the scale. Jen asked me if I was going to let the number dictate my attitude for our impending workout. Whaaaat? Me??

I took the plunge and watched the disbelief and delight shuffle across Jen's visage. "You lost two pounds," she squealed!!

What the hell, Tinkerbell??

Shear joy. Mission accomplished.

Later, as I was puffing away at 25% incline on the dreadmill, still having a hard time believing the numbers, I asked her if she thought the scale was accurate. She weighed herself just to be sure. She came back and said. "It's pretty close. I was 2 tenths of a pound less than normal,"

I about fell out of my tree because I thought she was going to say "I was 2 pounds less than normal," It seemed like an eternity between when she said "2" and when she said "tenths." Spit it out, Slow-Mo-Jo!

So, I'm euphoric, ecstatic, astounded, and less-rounded.

This experiment is happily over.

But I will probably start a new experiment soon.

12 Weeks/12 Pounds!