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…

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