workin' on the master plan

First things first: I was up 1.6 this week, no real shock there since I knew I felt a little off. I didn't move as much this week because of my ankle issues AND another damn birthday party was too late in the week to work off. Considering those factors, a 1.6 gain is actually not bad at all. Just ask my dad, he was up 2lbs. thanks to the birthday pizza.

I need to get a hold of myself and refocus. I need to start blogging more and experimenting more with food. I haven't had the urge to quit or go off the rails at all, which is fucking phenomenal for me. It feels so good to know that shit is getting under control, and that my old way of thinking isn't even close to being on my brain right now.

I have zero desire to do any covert eating missions, no desire to blow a bunch of points on something nasty, and I am tracking every single thing that I'm eating and drinking. It makes a huge difference and I can see it.

More and more I am thinking long-term. Why am I doing this? What do I want to do in the future that I can't do now? How is my weight excluding me from what I want to do?

A mental picture is developing of what I would like to eventually look like, and I'm really starting to think of my "to do list" for the not-too-distant future. I'm not talking about the heavy stuff like marriage, kids, sensible vehicle blah blah blah, at the moment that is all very much out of my hands.

I'm talking about exploring new activities and getting active. One of my best friends is absolutely insane about rock climbing and I always told myself that if I got fit enough to pull my ass up a bumpy wall, I would do it. So I will. Once I get fitter and stronger, I want to take my chance and conquer whatever fear is trying hold me back. This may take a while, but it's part of the master plan.

This week I make a disappointed return to the bone doctor about my stupid ankle. I have no idea what the eff is going on with that thing. It's only been four months since my last surgery and already it's starting to fuck up. I'm really tense and apprehensive about going there because I get the horrible feeling that he'll a) tell me there's nothing wrong with it (which would definitely NOT explain the pain) or b) tell me that there's no other option than to fuse it.

Now, fusion would be great from a pain elimination point of view, and I really do want to eliminate the pain, believe me. BUT the thought of two months of painful recovery is making me shit my pants a little because of, well, the pain and the loss of work. Part of me is prepared for it, the rest of me isn't, and if work stays as busy as it has been, me fucking off for two months isn't going to help either art department. All I can do is wait and see what he says on Wednesday. He might tell me to just suck it up (which would result with him getting a punch in the mouth).

The sun is shining, I need to get outside. I'm off in search of vegetables in need of roasting.

XO
LB