It’s been another great week for losses, with 88.2 pounds gone, and I’m happy to report that I’m closing in on a couple of goals that truly put this journey in a whole new light for me. Not that my weight loss efforts haven’t been legitimate, before, but the two goals that are soon within my grasp seem to shine a whole new light on this transition into the next stage of my life.

88 pound sea turtle

A little less than 5 more pounds gone, and I will have lost 25% of my total body weight, at 93 pounds. And when I’ve lost 11.8 more pounds, I will cross into that triple digit territory of having lost 100 pounds. Considering how close I am to both of these goals, I have to admit that every time I think about it, I am both excited and absolutely stunned.

Yep, those are big numbers. Not big enough, yet, to put my body weight in “normal” territory, but huge numbers, nonetheless.

It’s the accumulation of small changes that have made the difference. Changing a ton of things that needed to eventually happen, right off the bat, has driven me off of more diets than I care to admit. Starting out with smaller steps has led to making larger steps much easier.

Anyone who’s ever had a water leak can tell you that slow drip that doesn’t seem like anything to worry about ends up costing you on the water bill. Anyone who watched the Kansas City Royals win the World Series knows that they did it without a single home run over the fence; they won with singles, doubles, steals. The small things matter a lot; it’s not so important that you jump into doing everything at once, but that you start your effort with small changes.

Years ago, I was an avid walker; I walked roughly four miles a day. On every day’s walk, I’d pick up a piece of gravel along my path. When I arrived home, I dropped the rock I’d picked up into a hole that needed filling in my driveway. And while the differences on a day to day basis probably didn’t look like much at all, I eventually filled that hole.

I keep adding small things to my repertoire as I progress with my weight loss; as I become more capable. I find that everything I can successfully add or alter manages to change my life in slight but important ways. My latest challenge has been to intentionally use my cane less and less. I have it with me at all times, still; there are simply times when my knees are unsteady or I have a hill to tackle that requires some assistance. Falling is dangerous for me, so training my body to be steady on my feet is a slow but important process.

While I still feel I walk a little bit like a drunk when I don’t have my cane, I don’t feel like I must have it when I’m walking — most of the time. And honestly, the more weight I lose, the easier it will be for my body to maintain my balance; my gait is changing. So is my posture and the way I carry myself. Losing a large percentage of body weight necessarily means shifts in your center of gravity.

On a slightly different note, I went to the doctor’s office for a standard 6 month checkup earlier this week. I didn’t flinch when I stepped on the scales. I always fear blood draws, because I have deep veins that like to hide; believe me, I’ve gone through traumatic times when I’ve spent over an hour with attempted blood draws, to the point of feeling like I’d pass out. This time? The first attempt was successful.

And the best part? I didn’t cry during my appointment. I’m sure my doctor is happy about that, too; I’ve kidded him that he’s probably recorded “90% chance of blubbering” in my chart. I usually cry out of anger or frustration, and going back through my medical charts, they’ve seen my weight wildly fluctuate for years — this is certainly no new problem. So for me to stand there proudly, smiling during a doctor’s checkup and not shed a tear? Huge. My lab reports aren’t back, yet, but I’m not expecting anything but good news.

Make a small change; it makes a big difference in the long run.