Well, on the one hand, my body is still getting smaller. On the other, my weight is not going down anymore - I think I've hit the weight loss limit for yoga/pilates/bellydance. I do seem to have more muscle, though, and my body fat percentage is now at 40.2%
So I think I'm going to get a gym membership so that I can take some classes in something more aerobic - I think I want to do kickboxing again, I really enjoyed that a few years ago. I think I need to do more workouts where I get my heart rate up - I'm enough in shape now that the things I've been doing no longer tire me out.
Today I am going to go buy some size ten pants!!!eleventy1! The twelves I have been wearing now slide off without unbuttoning them (and since Walter loves to use me as his standing tool, he pulls them down a lot). I know I'm not close to an 8 yet - I still have some, back from when those *were* my "fat pants" - I can put them on, and button them up, but I get major camel toe and that ever so attractive "Bloused Flesh" look from my loose baby skin piling up on top of the waistband. So definately not an 8 yet. *shudders*
It seems to be going so slowly - and I have to keep reminding myself that the weight itself isn't what matters, but the shape of the body. But when I look at that scale and see the weight creeping back up to 160, I still get depressed, even though I know it's muscle.