1. Realized I’m finally starting to feel better and that I can no longer blame my ultra bad food choices and general laziness on not feeling well. Besides, exercise gives you energy and helps you feel good. Google says so. So does Pinterest.
2. Weighed myself and decided I need to drop a few pounds. 152.4 pounds. Up from 144.4 my lowest weight. My husband would probably tell you he thought that might have been verging on waify. He also thinks he’s practically a hippie when his hair starts to grow past the top of his ears. He goes his own way. It’s part of his charm. But 152 is most definitely maintaining the Jelly Belly. The Jelly Belly isn’t going anywhere until some of the 152 goes somewhere. I’m also pretty convinced I could run a tiny bit faster than my usual slow crawl if I weighed less. But mostly it just feels like I’m permanently trapped in the 152 neighborhood. Like I bought a house there and then the property values went down and now I’m upside down on my mortgage and who in their right mind would buy it at that price. I’m going to need to break the cycle.
3. Decided I need to start running again in order to run a tiny bit faster than my usual crawl. I haven't been running much since I wasn't feeling well. I started wondering if I need to do Couch to 5K again. Talk about a sobering moment. Also probably slightly overdramatic. Whatever.
3. Started reading This Is Why You're Fat by Jackie Warnerevery chance I get. She has me convinced I’m addicted to sugar, bread, rice and pasta and I've decided I have to give them up. She also convinced me to drop a pretty penny online for supplements she claims I need.
4. Did not have two slices of Honey Wheat Toast with a smear of I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter on it. I always have two slices of Honey Wheat toast with a smear of I Can’t Believe It’s not Butter on it. And I wanted to. But I didn’t. Scrambled eggs for the win.
5. Decided I need to hard boil some eggs. I don’t think I’m capable of scrambling eggs every morning.
6. Actually got up from my desk to take my two 15 minute breaks at work. In the morning, I dragged my lazy carcass up and down 8 flights of stairs 3 times. I had the nerve to start out jogging up the first 2 flights. As if. By the 8th floor I was a panting mess and moderately concerned a coworker was going to come into the stairwell and think I was having a heart attack. In the afternoon, I hit the tiny old gym in my building. It’s mostly treadmills and some weight machines. Project Push Up was in the back of my head trying to convince me to get on the floor and knock a few out. My fear of disgusting old carpet kept me upright though. I checked out the barbells and all the different weight machines. I even hopped on the treadmill to do some sprints to get my heart rate up. And by sprints I mean I put the speed on 7 for 2 minutes and quickly realized I wasn’t wearing a sports bra. Awkward. But it did get my heart rate up. It also nearly flung my badge up into my face on its stretchy cord. Holla at a player, yo. Fitting it in where I can.
7. Started over. Again. This is a place I’ve been before. Too many times to count.
8. Forgave myself for having to start over. It happens. Doesn’t make me a bad person. Just makes me human. Nothing worth having comes easy.