by Lisa Jo
I went to bed early and woke up at 3 a.m. to the sound of howling wind and worried a little about today’s run. Then I slept again and stepped into a classroom story where I publicly bitched out the school system and America in general for subjecting my freedom to the government’s bullshit rules. Not sure where that rant came from, but it was a fairly eloquent speech which generated a round of applause from shell-shocked parents who were listening. I’m pretty sure I must have lived in some loose, European society in another life. 🙂
Anyway, when the light of day crept into my bedroom, I woke again, unable to see anything clearly without my contacts. My eyes were full of gook and swollen from yesterday’s yuckiness.
And then I remembered it all. Groan. I hate that part – the jolt of recollection of unpleasant things before my feet hit the floor. I lay there for a short while and mustered up the courage to get up, survey the damage from Nemo, and step on my bathroom scale. Brave girl.
My Cinderella diet is really working. I added my 480-calorie m&m binge (yeah – it was one of those days) into my Livestrong tracker, and adjusted the rest of my day accordingly. No lecture from the scale. Another pound and I’ll see a number that’s been lurking just below my flex point for over a year. Another 2 and I’ll break a barrier that will probably scare the shit out of me and that I haven’t seen since I met the Belgian.
This week was a step-back week on the training schedule, too. That, combined with taking a few days off from the gym workouts, had me nervous that it wasn’t going to be a great week for weight loss. This is the point where I usually say fuck it. This is the point when I think I get scared to drop more baggage. This is when I become terrified to unzip the fat suit and reveal my true Self. And I usually start eating.
So, I’m conscious of it. I’m going to do my best to stay with my healthy stuff this weekend, and I have two runs on the books. We’ll see where that puts us on Monday morning.
I have some research to do this weekend that I’m not entirely thrilled about. But I suppose it must be done. I need to understand my options and make a big decision. Big. Huge. Scary. Probably best if I don’t put much thought or emotion into it at this point. Just do it. Avoiding a sugar coma is key.
And of course, let’s not forget my favorite holiday of the year is looming, and I have chosen (once again) to be single on Lover’s Day. I’m sure that will trigger some delightful demon-dancing across my mind.
And last, but certainly not least, my baby girl is 20 years old today. Twenty. Boggles the mind.
I ate my bowl of chocolate oatmeal sunshine, swallowed my vitamins, and I’m ready to face the day, whatever it brings. Surely a countryside trot through the freshly fallen snow will perk me up a little.
Here we go…
