Torture Tuesday

It's Tuesday, which means a visit with the Torture Master...uh, Steve - the trainer.

I had to open up my big mouth and say, "Hey! You haven't taken our measurements since the end of June." I should've known better. (Michelle was not happy with me and my big mouth. Her snarky side put in a brief appearance.)

Steve was more than happy to comply with taking measurements.

First up - the sinister, sorrow-inducing scale.  The scale is not my friend, especially lately as it's decided to be stubborn and not move.  Nope, it's not giving in, no matter how much I rant and cuss at it.  So, since it was my big idea to be measured today, I tried to show some enthusiasm and hopped right on.  I wasn't holding my breath.  Sure enough, same weight as last time.  I've definitely hit a plateau.

Next up, the tape measure.  The tape measure doesn't scare me as much as the scale does because I tend to lose inches, even if I'm not losing pounds.  And, to be quite honest, I'm not so sure that Steve manages to measure in the same exact spot every time.  I was happy to see that I have lost inches in some areas over the past couple months.

Finally, the callous caliper came out to capture my chubba chunks.  I am not a fan of the caliper.  Steve has to grab hold/pinch the fat (in my upper arm, hip, and thigh) then grip with the caliper to take the fat measurement.   This hurts!  I swear I always end up with a bruise the next day, especially on my thigh.  Fortunately for me, I was down a bit with those measurements, which means I've lost some more body fat.  Yeah me!

There were some changes, but not enough to throw a party over.  So, looks like I need to dig deeper, find some inspiration ("The Biggest Loser" starts tonight), and kick this thing in the big ol' butt!