Score!

With over a week left my scale gave up the number I wanted to see when I turn forty. I did a double-take this morning. I got off the scale, and back on, just to be sure. And yes, there it was. For reals.

Here's the great thing about it. I have been supremely healthy. This wasn't a crash diet. I am constantly (and I mean constantly, it's kind of a pain the ass, really) eating. I am eating plenty of calories. I pour heavy cream in my coffee. I cook with real butter. I eat a lot of steak. I eat a lot of eggs. And a lot of vegetables. I still drink way too much wine. And occasionally eat nachos in the middle of the night.

What I'm not eating are carbs, other than what carbs are in the vegetables I eat. And I don't eat carby starchy veggies like potatoes or corn. And I avoid sugar. Other than what's in the wine I drink. I missed Mexican food terribly for awhile but at the end of the day, I like looking like this and feeling this good more than I like a tortilla chip.

I work out with my trainer once or twice a week. I don't do any cardio. I hate cardio, and I don't have to chase down prey for food or anything so I don't see the point in it. We do all strength training. This mama is strong. And of course as a middle-aged woman, I have to worry about bone density, and there is pretty much nothing better than lean muscle mass to promote healthy bones. (And yes. I did just call myself a middle-aged woman. I did. I'm cool with it.)

If you're wondering, and perhaps scoffing at my relatively high fat/high protein/low carb/no cardio plan? I just got blood work done this week and my numbers are perfect.

Forty has absolutely nothing on me.