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Diariesofafatass.com

Weighing what's important.

12/20/2016

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It's weigh-in Eve. I've gotten much more comfortable with this day, as the weeks have gone on. I have certain rules for this day. I generally don't eat out (which I broke by going out to lunch with two friends), and I almost always have cereal for dinner, and of course...no alcohol. Well, here's to breaking the rules. Cheers!

This week  has been a weird one as far as diet. I've eaten pretty dang good. I've had a couple of moments (we won't talk about the 1 1/2 bottles of red wine I drank on Friday night), and moments with friends where I've had more calories than normal. On the whole though, those were a fraction of my week. I feel good about my eating choices. It feels like it's getting easier, like things are getting more routine. On the downside, the scale hasn't really reacted. I was down half a pound or so this morning. I'm not totally freaking out, though. I just want it to go down. I've been trying to mentally prepare myself for these times. They are going to happen. My body is not always going to react with streamers and balloons of celebration on the scale. I sure fucking wish it would, but it's not. I'm also taking ownership of those choices that could have been better. I mean... 1 1/2 bottles of wine...c'mon. I didn't need that. I loved every minute of it (it was over many hours), but I could've easily stopped at my normal limit of 1/2 bottle. So, the scale will be another reminder that I need to tighten up my game and wait for my body to react.

I really tried to help out the cause by going to the gym on Sat/Sun. I mentioned this in my last post. Sunday morning my lower back was pretty sore, but I hadn't been on a treadmill in quite some time. I chalked it up to walking on a hard surface like the treadmill. I was hoping walking again would help to loosen it up. My plan was to then make an appointment with the trainer at the gym, to see how to start with weights, given my back issues. Sunday I did 3 miles on the treadmill, which isn't a real far distance for me, but I did it all at an incline, mostly 3 and a few mins or so at 5 (which according to chiro is a no-no). I played with the calories burned on it, and incline definitely had more of an impact than speed. Plus, I've always heard the incline is the most important part of that activity. I felt really good about pushing myself the way I did. I felt good at least until Monday morning came around and I could barely get out of bed. Yep, same mother fucking problem. I took it hard....as in had a breakdown to my bff, hard. I just feel like every time I start to make some real progress, my back screws me... I get so tired of hearing, "You need to take it easy." As the bff said, "we don't do easy." She gets it. She gets my frustration, and unfortunately she had to be my sounding board, even when I knew it was irrational. I needed my day. I needed my day to feel sorry for myself, as pathetic as it sounds. I want to push myself...I want to so very badly. It breaks my heart, that I will never again be the athlete I want to be...that my thoughts of running up some of those hills when I hike next summer, are crushed. It just wont' happen. My body won't allow it. It was a day of sadness. A day where I knew I was being pathetic, but I needed that day. The day is behind me, although I'm still pained (physically and mentally). It sucks that I can't shoot for 10k steps for a while again. I have to "take it easy" as much as that fucking sucks. 

All of this leads me today. A day where my back has been up and down. A day that had me running at work and with this raffle I've orgnanized. A day in which, as usual, I've piled my plate too high. A day in which I've let myself get caught up in being overwhelmed by the holidays, work, my weight, my back, the raffle, commitments, etc. A day in which I again got lost in things that don't matter enough to lose myself to. A day in which that all stopped, as soon as I heard that Jeff lost his battle to cancer. This day has been coming. I've prayed for this day to come, as Jeff was ready for God to take him. Still, it stopped me in my tracks. It broke my heart for his family and the bff and her family. Their loss is too great for me to even imagine. It has made me stop, quit feeling sorry for myself, and think of what is really important. So, as I drove home, knowing that Brian had made a pot roast in the crock pot and mashed potatoes and I knew I was going to eat my cereal, I thought of how much I wanted wine....wine to try and even myself out...to enjoy the warmth of the wine....to take the feels of the day and put them away for a moment... I decided to have that dinner and have that wine. Brian knew that I was going to have cereal, but he was so sweet in that he put a potato in the crock pot for me, giving me a choice against mashed potatoes if I had leftovers tomorrow. I found that so incredibly thoughtful. So, I had less food than I would probably normally eat, but I had the roast, potato (from the crock pot) with gravy, and carrots for dinner. I poured that glass of wine. I had a 1 1/2" x 1 1/2" rice krispy treat. (Mom sent a box of sweets including cookies, and my favorite...fudge), but with each choice of everything, I knew what I was doing. It was all my choice. So, if the scale isn't my bff tomorrw, I'm okay with it. I'm not off the rails. I'm a regular person, who just wanted to make her own decisions tonight. And as much as I would love to have that second glass of wine, it's also my decision to stop at one. I'm in control. It's a new feeling and I embrace it.

So, I don't normally write until weigh-in day, but these past couple of days have been bigger to me, than anything the scale reads tomorrow (remind me of that, if by some chance I gain). I just wanted to share with you my thoughts. I know some of you relate to so much of what goes on in my life. I've heard it enough times, and I'm grateful. I also just needed to write. Writing is often times easier for me than talking it out. If you know me, I'm not always the best at being a super vulnerable in person. 

I hope you have a good night. I thank you for keeping Jeff in your prayers during his illness. I once again ask you to pray for Jeff and his family, and for Amy and hers. Thank you.

Love,

Jen
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    Jen

    Age 47
    Married 24 years
    2 boys, 18 & 15
    email: diariesofafatass@gmail.com


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