The past couple weeks have been rough. I'm refraining myself from using several choice expletives to describe just how bad it's been. WW? Forget that.
But at least I weighed in this morning. Not that I really want to talk about it. I don't even know what the damage was - I chose not to look. Not just a river in Egypt, people. I know what I did wrong. I know how to correct it. I could dissect it in all of it's greasy fast food detail. I could make grandiose statements of what I plan to do differently. But I'm not going to do that. It's a new day, and that's all I can focus on. The scale doesn't matter, right? It's only feedback. Nothing I can do about how the last two weeks went, so I just have to move forward.
If this were a cheesy movie, this is the part where we would cut to an inspiring and uplifting montage of me chopping vegetables, walking the dog, and running on a treadmill, all while laughing and listening to Eye of the Tiger or Katy Perry's Firework or some such anthem. Not gonna lie, I thought about the montage when I was on the treadmill pounding out a C210k workout. So that's where my head was today. It's a clean slate, and it feels pretty good.
I know exactly how this feels! And it does feel like a waddle, doesn't it? I know I don't look that much different to everyone else, but when I indulge like crazy I feel 20 lbs heavier than I actually am.
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