So Thursday was an extra day off, making for a four-day weekend for me. Woohoo. (I work a 9/80 schedule, alternating 5 day weeks with 4 day weeks, which means every-other Friday off). It was great until Thursday evening. Trainwreck is the term that comes to mind. It started with rationalizing "I had a great turn on the treadmill today, I'll just have ___ for a snack" and progressed from there. I don't know why it went downhill so fast, but it did. I scarffed down some of this, then some of that. Of course it all happened after my husband went to bed, so there were no witnesses.
Then Friday. Ah Friday. Horrid Friday. Black Friday - only not the shopping kind. I was in a foul mood, partially attributed to knowing I'd blew days worth of doing well and being conscious of what was going in my mouth. I was tired from staying up late binging, then getting up early to see The Man off to work. I didn't do any strength training at all in the morning, or warm up for that matter, but went down and climbed on the treadmill. Thursday's turn on the tread had gone well and I'd felt great (I always seem to feel better if/when I tread in the morning) so I figured it would be good for what ailed me.
I didn't listen to my body. I didn't warm up well enough, and things started to hurt. I kept chiding myself... c'mon, you can do this, this is easier than it was yesterday.. keep going.. just a little longer.. just a little faster.. yea. My back hurt, my legs hurt, and my attitude hurt even worse.
We won't even go into the amount of food I stuffed down my gullet Friday night, again, after Bill had gone to bed. Big red flag to be sneaking food, but there I was.
Saturday dawned, and we were up regular time, and I don't know if it was because Bill was home or the rain had ceased or what.. but I felt better. I'd slept better, I'd stopped beating myself up over abusing my drug of choice (FOOD!) and I had resolved to get back on track.
Saturday and Sunday went much better, except for all the RAIN on Sunday. C'mon already!
No more binging, back on track, and letting my body rest and recover on Saturday. Sunday, when I hit the tread, it was with a simple plan in mind that I was going to stick to, and I did, and it felt great again!
According to Sunday morning's weigh-in, I'd gained .6 lbs. That was better than I'd expected, considering how much food I shoved in my gob. I weighed myself three different times, just to be sure. Yep, gained .6 lbs. Ok, that's not insurmountable, I can lose that again.
I'm a curious bean, so I decided to weigh myself again this (Monday) morning. Lo! I was down 4 lbs. Que? Really? Again, I weighed myself three separate times, and yep, that's what it said. I have NO idea why the wide fluctuation, but I'm going to go with it, and wait until next Sunday to see what the results are then. Maybe the -4 is real, although I don't see how it's possible.
We have wood floors. We have a few rugs through out the house, but for the most part, we're all wood.
We have two dogs, and they have hairy feet. They drag in stuff from the yard because, no matter how I try, I haven't been able to train them to wipe their feet on the doormat before they come in. I keep trying, although I fear it may be a fool's errand.
Why a fool's errand, you ask? Not because they're dogs, no. It's because I've yet been able to train my husband to take his shoes off when he comes in the house, let alone remember to wipe them on the mat before he steps in.
Finally, an apology is owed.
I've been quietly letting people around me know about my efforts to get fit and healthy (NOT diet). Yes, I'm still thinking "the less people know, then the less people will know if I fail" - but I'm not going to fail. Anyway, one of my friends had been obese in her younger years, and worked and strived to lose the weigh and get healthy and physically fit over the years. When I told her a bit about my efforts, she said something to me that I sort of blew off at the time.
'Be kind to you. Be kind to your body. It took years to gain the weight, it's going to take a while to get rid of it again. Treat yourself the same way you'd treat a girlfriend - gently, with love and support and encouragement'.
I didn't do that Thursday or Friday. I ignored what I was feeling, emotionally and physically, and plowed right through the food and trying to treadmill. I hurt myself by overeating, and by over-exerting myself on the treadmill.
My apology is to my body. It's the only one I've got, and we're in this thing together. Mind and body, heart and soul. Just because my mind says "do it!" that doesn't mean my body can always fulfill the wish/command. I promise to listen more carefully. I promise to set realistic goals, and stick to them. I will push, I will go for 'just a little bit more' but I'll do it within reason, and I'll avoid hurting myself again.
It was a long weekend, and I'm glad it's over. Back to my routine (apparently I'm really dependent upon my routine, I did not know that!) and back to work and back on track and back to a good healthy focus.