I fell off the wagon and was run over by the wagon.
I fell off the wagon and was run over by a wagon train of wagons.
It's not that I'm sitting around eating sticks of butter and watching my stories all day long.
But somehow I have gained back so much of the weight I worked so hard to lose.
I can explain. You see, it all started with-
There is no good reason. The reasons are all the reasons for all the other times I fell off the wagon. And they are not good reasons. Sure, I'm tired and many days I don't feel good. Yes, my job is stress-inducingly binge-ariffic. Sure, my satanspawncats
None of that is going to change any time soon.
So, I can either continue with things as they are and start wearing sweat pants and tent dresses everywhere, or I can suck it up and do what I know I need to do.
As with anything in life, if it's truly important to you, you'll do what it takes to make it happen.
(Apparently, the last several months I have found Netflix and Girl Scout cookies truly, truly, truly important).
So, it's back to being thoughtful about my food choices. For the most part, I haven't been eating too terribly (except those wickedly addictive Do-Si-Do cookies), but I haven't been planning ahead for nutritionally balanced meals and practicing portion control.
Back to monitoring my water intake.
And then there's my old Nemesis, Exercise. Logically, I know I will feel better, physically and emotionally. Logically, I know this is when I see the weight fall off. It's not that I don't think about it. I think about it everyday. I think, I should exercise. It will make me feel better and my clothes will fit. Because it's getting scary, folks- like Hulk-out scary.....if the Hulk was a pasty white, flabby woman. But there's this nasty little Scarlet O'Hara voice telling me I should think about it tomorrow. And tomorrow comes and it says the same thing. Before I know it, 4 months of tomorrows have passed and here we are. I think of all the progress I could have made in that time. But I refuse to beat myself up over it. Wallowing and self-pity and recriminations are pointless, annoying, and destructive. It's okay if I mess up. I know I'll mess up again. But as long as I can learn from my mistakes, it's progress. And progress is good.
So shut it, Scarlet O'Hara.
Today is the day.