Okay, it's half-time of the Biggest Loser contest at my gym. For the results of Weeks 3 and 4 cumulative weigh-in today, can I get a drum roll...
So that's two pounds for each week, one of which I wanted to forget as far as working out and sticking to the eating plan. Apparently I didn't do as poorly as I thought.
Also, the guantlet has been inadvertantly thrown. Or whatever that phrase is. I've been called out. I've been asked to belly up to the bar. And all without the other person knowing it.
See, I met with Chad the Trainer at the gym today to discuss my program and progress. I got on the scale and woo-hoo, I'd lost ten pounds in the six weeks since I joined the gym. "What do you want your ultimate goal to be?" he asks. "(this number)," I say, which is a healthy weight for my height according to, uh, everyone.
His reply? Are you ready for this?
"Well, I don't know about that..."
Are you kidding me??! What's your job again?
I didn't really say anything to him right then; I think I was a little dumbfounded. But I'm going to. And he's going to backpedal so fast his bike will break, and then he's going to assure me that (my number) is perfectly reasonable and attainable. I know he's going to react that way because deep down I don't think he meant "Christine you've got to be kidding; you'll never make that goal."
But he needs to know that comments like that can send someone like me into a bit of a tailspin. And someone like me could work up a carefully but sternly worded note to him in a matter of minutes (and address and stamp and seal it).
And someone like me can also put it in a drawer and not mail it.
Truth is, I don't know what exactly he meant by his comment, but I'm going to give him a chance to defend it, for sure.
Really, I wouldn't tell him this, but I think his comment has put me on the defensive. It makes me feel even more determined to get to my goal.
And I DO know about THAT.