I'm probably never going to see 200 again. I may never see 210 again (though I was close to 200 a few months ago).
And, you know what?
I'm OK with that. Hell, I'm pretty happy with that, actually.
Because, among other things, I'm back in 34" waist jeans (I think that's where I was back then) and, except when they're fresh from the wash, they're not overly-snug. If I get back down to an actual 34" waist (remember, clothing sizes lie. badly.) I'll be ecstatic. I don't really want to get below that, or my kilts will be too loose, they're 36" waist (and those sizes don't lie).
Because I can jog 6 miles in an hour and not feel like a dead man at the end.
Because I'm sleeping well.
Because I haven't had to change my eating habits drastically.
Because, like tropical glaciers, the chub is retreating. It's not gone, but there are places it's gone from. There's really not that much of it left.
I may not be where I planned to be. Where I am, though, is far closer to where I want to be.