It's not even eleven AM on Saturday, and although I slept in (til after eight/closer to nine - which for me isn't truly sleeping in - when I need it I could go til eleven. Which is nothing compared to what I used to do ... but I digress!) I have actually had a productive morning.
Which means I worked out already. C25K Week 4. I had some rough going during the second 5 minute run. Between my exhaustion, my allergies and the heat I was creeping along. But I finished. I did it. I should be in Week 5, honestly, but I have been slowly getting through Week 4, a second time now, so I'll hold off til I feel I can make it.
Anyway, while the early morning workout is something that rarely happens, there are a few things that led me to doing so. And they are as follows ...
Last night the kiddo had a total meltdown. It was horrible and I'm pretty sure my husband and I are still recovering. Honest. That's a post for another day, though, as rehashing it hurts my head and my heart, and so right now I'll choose not to.
Because of that I did not work out. I spent much of the night dealing with her, addressing her behavior and talking her down. Through it. It hurt. It drained me. Physically and emotionally. My body tensed, ached and hurt. Like hell.
After the incident and all that happened, and the ordeal of getting her to sleep, I came downstairs, even after brushing my teeth, and ate ice cream. This was not a good thing for me. It was comfort. It was emotional eating. It wasn't horribly over my calories for the day, but I was already over. I shouldn't have given in. But I wanted to and so I did. But I knew that it would make me angry with myself. I knew it the first time I went downstairs and went back up without giving in. I knew I should have stayed up there. I knew it as I took each step on my way back down. And I did it anyway.
And honestly, I went to bed thinking ...
When I weighed in this AM, I was up a bit. Just .8 of a pound. I shouldn't flip out, I know. And I'm kind of not, but I also kind of am a little cranky about it, too. So while I know it's not just the ice cream that did it. It's my slowing down. My motivation is still there - but I've slowed my C25K workouts a bit, and I feel it. I don't like it. I've switched to Zumba, which I like, but 20 minutes isn't enough for me. It's not intense enough or whatever you want to call it. I need to do more and keep at it. I need to not wait a week before running, because when I pick it back up it basically kicks my ass.
I wasn't not expecting it, but I felt like I had an okay week. Sort of. My calories were mostly low. But then I realized. I ate mints this week. A revelation, no? But seriously. I skipped documenting them, because they're just CVS brand wintergreen mints. I mean, really. How bad could they be?
But then what happens after that? What else do I forget to write down/log in my phone?
It's not who I want to be. I don't want to be that person sneaking or conveniently forgetting. I won't be her. She's GONE. I've already locked her in the closet and I'm not letting her out. This is the way I am going to be - this is the way I am. I'm 39 years old and I'm living healthy. I'm not just talking the talk. I'm walking the walk and I'm running the run. Because I want to and because I CAN.
Also? I need to stop being this chick during the week. No matter how tired I am.
She's cute and all - and she made me giggle - but I also want to tell her to go away. She can't come over anymore. I'm too strong and motivated to play games with myself that way. I won't do it. I can't.
I need to stop bs-ing myself and (as Nike says), JUST DO IT.
I'll check back in next week and hopefully (there's no hope in motivation, I WILL) have done so. Done it. Whatever IT is. Whatever it takes.
Peace out and thanks for listening.
*images obtained via my motivate me! board on Pinterest*