I did not weigh Saturday. I didn't want to and I knew I wouldn't have posted a loss anyway. So I ate with abandon over the weekend. Cupcakes, wings, hamburgers, the whole bit. And I felt physically horrible because of it.
Monday evening after work we ran, and I continued to feel horrible. Heavy, tired, slow, puffy. I knew it was the terrible eating over the weekend, and I don't want to feel like that. I am coming to realize that the better I eat, the better I run. And the better (more) I run, the better I eat. It's a great cycle to get myself into, and I'm trying.
I am also on day two of no caffeine. My head is finally starting to feel like it's deflating and is a normal size again, and the pounding has slowed to a gentle thump. I didn't set out to cut the caffeine from my day, but it's an indirect result of me finally telling myself the truth about my morning vanilla lattes. I wasn't counting the points. I was having one each morning and somewhere in my mind I was letting myself believe that they didn't count. That if they did count, I was walking them off every day when I was walking dogs. That it took me an hour to drink one, so the points were going into my system so slowly they didn't count.
And even though when I stepped on our home scale this morning I was still up from the weekend, I feel like I've turned a corner. One where I'm more honest with myself. As much as I'd like to be thin by next Monday, I know that ultimately this is a lifelong journey toward health. The shape of my body is just a side effect.
Labels: emotions, weight loss