This morning, my husband reached over from his office chair to me in my office chair to hug me (as he so often does for which I am infinitely grateful). As he hugged me, I noticed that his arms went around me more easily and fully than before. I told him that even I could tell that it was getting easier for him to hug me because my girth had contracted.
Experiences like these are always very motivating. It's one of the reasons I make posts about incremental progress. Yesterday I also noticed that the upper ring of my flabby belly was wrinkling at the sides where it was starting to collapse and flatten out. No, it's not a pretty sight or a nice look, but it is an indication of progress. My body is such a mass of fat-related battle scarring that I don't expect to look beautiful naked and will just settle for looking normal clothed.
At any rate, one of the things that makes this so dispiriting at times is that these little milestones on the path to a healthy weight are so infrequent. The moment you notice is a joyous one, but then you don't see another progress marker for a month or longer. This is why people weigh themselves as a means of tracking their progress. That number is positive feedback when it goes down. That being said, I'm still not inclined to weigh myself as I read far too many accounts of people torturing themselves about the scales ups and downs.
At any rate, I still feel like I'm traveling down a long lonely, barren road to a destination I can hardly imagine (as I've never really been there). The little markers are pretty much all I have to offer hope that the journey will one day be actually completed and I will be at a healthy weight and be able to eat 100% of my daily required calories instead of 75%. I realize that I have miles to go before I can eat though.