I'm taking a break from therapeutic knitting to blog. I don't want to, but I'm doing it.
Today was one of those stupid weigh-ins that people dread. The weigh-in that comes after a week of following plan TO A TEE, doing everything right, not so much as a brief culinary indiscretion, only to have a gain on the scale.
Yes, there are reasons for it. Water. Last week's loss. Whatever. None of those things provide any sort of consolation at the moment. I am pissed.
I am going to switch up the menu this week, go over my old trackers and see what I haven't been eating lately, see what's what. I already bought some fennel and carrots to roast for dinner tomorrow night, and I'll sort the rest out tomorrow.
Tonight, I'm just going to knit and try to figure things out. I need to calibrate my brain and get my shit together. I'm tired of the 270's and need to get the fuck out of 'em.
I feel like I'm in a mild nosedive and I need to pull up. I need to reclaim some sort of control. I need to keep going with that whole battle mode feeling.
Have a good week, keep your chin up.
XO
LB
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Down down down
Alright alright alright, now I'm back in this thing.
This week saw another 2.6 pounds kiss my ass goodbye. It might have been more, since this was the first weigh-in in months where I wore jeans instead of my usual yoga capri pant thingers. But dudes, it was 4 degrees when I left the house this morning, and that's just a little to cool for short pants. So I took the chance on the jeans since it's going to be the status quo soon.
After last week's meltdown hissy fit, I got my focus back. That focus paid off, and I'm 1.8lbs away from hitting my 10% body weight lost mark. It may not happen next week, but I'll be good and goddamned if I don't try to clinch it.
I only made it to the gym three mornings this week. Work has been crazytown so it's work vs. overtime. Overtime wins.
But I'm here, I'm focused and I'm working at it. Still in it to win it.
Word up from the trenches, forward march.
xo
lb
This week saw another 2.6 pounds kiss my ass goodbye. It might have been more, since this was the first weigh-in in months where I wore jeans instead of my usual yoga capri pant thingers. But dudes, it was 4 degrees when I left the house this morning, and that's just a little to cool for short pants. So I took the chance on the jeans since it's going to be the status quo soon.
After last week's meltdown hissy fit, I got my focus back. That focus paid off, and I'm 1.8lbs away from hitting my 10% body weight lost mark. It may not happen next week, but I'll be good and goddamned if I don't try to clinch it.
I only made it to the gym three mornings this week. Work has been crazytown so it's work vs. overtime. Overtime wins.
But I'm here, I'm focused and I'm working at it. Still in it to win it.
Word up from the trenches, forward march.
xo
lb
Sunday, September 13, 2009
The menu says: restart, shut down, sleep mode
Man, I've had a hard time writing this update. Another frustrating trip to the scale and one shitty week really didn't motivate me to blab on here.
It started on Tuesday when some broad in the change room at the Y asked me "how far along" I was. I honestly could have ripped her beating heart out of her chest and shown it to her. Instead, I just said "34 years, thanks for asking". The kicker came when SHE looked at ME as if I had pinched a steamin' loaf in her purse.
It's not the first time some ignorant/rude/ridiculous asshole has asked me that, but this time it did more damage than I wanted to admit. I'm working hard at this, and until then I had been feeling pretty alright about everything, except for a few low points. But not this time. It totally knocked me for six.
The rest of the week was busy, stressful, and frustrating. I didn't get to the gym as much as I wanted to, but I still stayed on plan, tracked and walked to and from work. Then I stepped on the scale and it barely moved.
Everybody now: it's a loss, not a gain...
I'm frustrated. I know it's not a race, but I'm not where I want to be 36 weeks into it. I want to be further ahead, I want that total lbs lost number to be higher. I want this fat fucking off of me.
I wish food was something I could just turn my back on. Like cigarettes or booze or anything else I don't consume anymore. I wish it was something I could walk away from and just go forward in my life. Fix what's broken and move on.
But I can't. I'm locked in a fight with the very thing that keeps me alive.
I am overwhelmed. I'm stressed. I'm annoyed. I'm cranky. I'm tired.
I need to reinstate my War Measures Act. I need to remember what it felt like to be a one woman army. I need to pull the pin and hope for the best.
We'll see what a week in the trenches brings.
xo
lb
It started on Tuesday when some broad in the change room at the Y asked me "how far along" I was. I honestly could have ripped her beating heart out of her chest and shown it to her. Instead, I just said "34 years, thanks for asking". The kicker came when SHE looked at ME as if I had pinched a steamin' loaf in her purse.
It's not the first time some ignorant/rude/ridiculous asshole has asked me that, but this time it did more damage than I wanted to admit. I'm working hard at this, and until then I had been feeling pretty alright about everything, except for a few low points. But not this time. It totally knocked me for six.
The rest of the week was busy, stressful, and frustrating. I didn't get to the gym as much as I wanted to, but I still stayed on plan, tracked and walked to and from work. Then I stepped on the scale and it barely moved.
Everybody now: it's a loss, not a gain...
I'm frustrated. I know it's not a race, but I'm not where I want to be 36 weeks into it. I want to be further ahead, I want that total lbs lost number to be higher. I want this fat fucking off of me.
I wish food was something I could just turn my back on. Like cigarettes or booze or anything else I don't consume anymore. I wish it was something I could walk away from and just go forward in my life. Fix what's broken and move on.
But I can't. I'm locked in a fight with the very thing that keeps me alive.
I am overwhelmed. I'm stressed. I'm annoyed. I'm cranky. I'm tired.
I need to reinstate my War Measures Act. I need to remember what it felt like to be a one woman army. I need to pull the pin and hope for the best.
We'll see what a week in the trenches brings.
xo
lb
Saturday, September 5, 2009
another 20 seconds on the scale.
......0.4 loss.
Sigh.
No gym at all this week because the pool and change rooms were closed. But I stayed on plan, continued to walk to and from work, tracked and was well within my limits when I went to see Motorhead. So this week wasn't all for nothing. It never really is. I'm still doing this, but I admit, it's fucking FRUSTRATING at times.
Gotta focus and improve my methods.
I also gotta say this: AAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH #^%*@##@$%#$%^^&*()))^@@#($&@&@!!!!!
That should do it.
xo
lb
Sigh.
No gym at all this week because the pool and change rooms were closed. But I stayed on plan, continued to walk to and from work, tracked and was well within my limits when I went to see Motorhead. So this week wasn't all for nothing. It never really is. I'm still doing this, but I admit, it's fucking FRUSTRATING at times.
Gotta focus and improve my methods.
I also gotta say this: AAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH #^%*@##@$%#$%^^&*()))^@@#($&@&@!!!!!
That should do it.
xo
lb
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