Defining enough

So. Last week I went back to the doctor for a follow up visit.

Sigh.

I've been losing and regaining the same five to seven pounds since my first appointment six weeks ago. This time, Dr. W was also working with a medical resident and she came into the exam room first. As we discussed my frustration with my non-reducing weight, I started to tear up. As I started to tear up, so did she. Awww. She was really so sweet. And young. So I managed to pull myself together and act like a grownup. Disappointments happen, right? And moaning about the things you have no control over isn't going to change that.

When Dr. W came in and we started talking, we decided that part of the problem is that I'm so focused on not losing that I'm stressing myself out, which is more than likely contributing to my non loss. Well, it made sense when he said it. So last week, even though I still worked out, I tried really hard not to stress out about if was working out long enough or hard enough or just enough in general. And you know what? It was kind of nice. But - I really missed the Zumba classes I didn't attend.

And so, today after a very through morning upper body workout, I went to my normal Monday afternoon Zumba class. And, as usual, Misti kicked my butt. In a good way. She was talking about adding some new routines the last couple weeks, but I would like to know why everything she adds is faster than the stuff it's replacing. She's like Zumba played at 78 rpms. If my Zumba-ing was singing? I'd sound like a Chipette. On fast forward. And yet? I love it. Every single sweaty, stress reducing, fat jiggling moment of it.

On my way home, I was thinking about how easy it was to back off the working out last week, even though I missed it and how good and comfortable it felt to get back into my routine today. So I guess for now that enough is what I decide it to be.