I don't own a scale, so I had no idea what my quantified progress was (or even if there was any) until yesterday. I've been feeling different; my pants have been looser, but I thought maybe some of that was psychological--because I so badly want to change.

After arriving at Sarah's place last night (I haven't seen her in about 2 weeks)she encouraged me to get on her scale, because she felt that she could see a difference. I was trepidatious...I didn't want to be discouraged if I hadn't really lost anything yet. I needn't have worried.

I'm 10 pounds lighter.

And I can sense a change in my metabolism. This week I've focused on incorporating fruits and vegetables into my eating regimen, while upping the ante on my water intake. I feel myself being even less physiologically dependent on caffeine. I am exercising portion control, trying to snack on things like grapes and grapefruit, and I am walking and walking and walking. This morning, quite spontaneously, during my powerwalk I broke out into a run. My body just wanted to go faster. It dawned on me that I was running a few seconds into the process.

I don't think I'm going to run as a matter of course, because aerobic walking is said to be much better, and one is less likely to injure one's knees that way...but I think it was something of a metaphor. I wanted to go farther, faster. God, what will it be like when I don't have anything checking me, when I can just keep going...