The scale has been parked in the same two-pound band since March, which I assumed would feel like a victory and mostly feels like homework. I'm 58, both kids are out of the house, and it's quiet enough now to actually hear myself think about food.
What's changed: I cook twice a week, a big pot of something Sunday and a sheet pan Wednesday, and I walk the long loop past the school most mornings, 40 minutes if I don't stop to chat with the crossing guard. I added two days of garage lifting with a used pair of dumbbells and some bands. Down 87 total, but these last months have been less about the number and more about carrying groceries in one trip and getting up off the floor without planning the maneuver first.
Recomposition is slower than I expected. My arms are firmer. The waistband has not moved. That's a strange kind of progress to sit with.
For anyone past the losing part — how do you keep it interesting without it turning into a second job?