I have been seriously considering giving up on BFL. It's been 42 weeks; I'm in week 43. I've lost 43 pounds and 27 inches, but it is slow. And it just seems as if I am not getting anywhere.

My hubby took a week off, did no cardio and no weights, but did stay up on his feet for 8 hours a day four days, ate whatever he wanted, but did eat several meals–like 5 a day. He lost a pound and a half of fat and gained three pounds of muscle!!! I was here at home, busting my butt working out, eating clean, and lost .8th of a pound. Where's the justice in that?

So, I thought, fine. I'll just give up all exercises for Thursday through Sunday. I'll just hang out with my body and let it rest. But I feel so guilty doing that. I didn't do any exercises today. But I am not sure I can stick with it. I'm wanting to do some biking. I miss that. I haven't done any in over a week, trying to shock my body with other things. (Believe me, I did it, too. There's nothing like HIIT to kill you.)

Tonight I thought, hang it all. I can just eat anything I want to. It doesn't matter. –Think I've been a bit depressed and this isn't helping.

Then I tried on the smallest dress in my closet. The beautiful black and green dress I wore on our first date. And you know what?! I can actually zip it up. I can't wear it anywhere, because breathing is important and I'm still too afraid to breathe in it, but I can put it on.

So maybe I won't give in to the black hole of depression, cravings, and the desire for faster results like other people got.

I'll just have to save the Snickers for my off day.