Somehow I’m down 1.4 this week. I’m shocked that I didn’t gain, I was way off program most days. My metabolism must be jet-screaming right now. I’m not complaining, I’ll take it.

I expect to lose more in the following weeks because I’ve nailed down my motivator, I know for sure, now. Oh yeah, it’s on.

Thanksgiving? No worries. I’ve already tracked Thursday’s dinner: 11 points. Christmas-schmissmas. I am going to kill it.

How do I know? Because I know me. And once I’ve made up my mind that I want something, I will damn well get it.

Does this mean I’m going to get back my 90s-edition flat stomach? Probably not. Let’s be realistic, I’ve had two kids and will have taken off 75-100 pounds, quickly. But am I going to annihilate what’s there right now? You’re damn straight I will.

L’il tummy? You’re toast.

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