More symbolic was the actual number on the scale. It had, previously, been the lowest weight I had ever been at (going down).
It was a number I had hit in 2005, when we celebrated my parents' 50th anniversary.
Two years today, I hit that number. It was a milestone. A celebration. A number I didn't think I would see again.
This week, I hit that number again. It doesn't feel as good but I'm trying not to dwell on the negative but more that I'm headed back in the right direction.
It is something to celebrate, especially as I read back on previous posts from this year and how hard it's been to get back on track.
I feel positive. I feel strong. And I'm happy to be back at the 30-pound mark, soon to be in a new decade on the scale.
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