I am certain that both people who read this blog (I am grateful that two people actually read it) have been sitting on pins and needles and wondering how I am doing with the weight-loss plan. Well, let me tell you. It stinks. Probably because I have not been true to it.
You know, that first week I drank enough water to fill a bathtub. The next week I just did not. I would forget to clean out my 64 ounce container. Or I would clean it and forget to bring it to work.
I had a friend who promised to start this journey with me as well. But, they were not "ready" to begin right away. They needed a week of self-indulging carnivorous eating. Not that I have planned to become a vegan. Nosiree. Give me a big hunk 'o meat and I will revel in its protein-ness.
Is proteinness a word? I think not.
At any rate... my friend then left me high and dry for a few days and I found that it was easy to put off my own plans for someone else. Actually, that was just my own veiled excuse to eat whatever the heck I wanted. And I did.
Then I used Kristin's wedding shower as a crutch. I HAD to eat that CAKE. It would waste! It would mold! It would take over The World!
Then I used my period as an excuse. Yep. I said it. Period. I can eat my weight in anything that is essentially edible during that week. It's pretty hateful.
So, today, I realized that I was tired of coming up with excuses. I needed to take some control. I called that friend who was going to take this journey with me, but they were unavailable. So, I came home and changed clothes and hit the outdoor track that is across the street from my house. I walked a couple of laps and then decided that I needed to try and run a little bit. I need to get my heart rate up. I need to exercise that all important muscle.
So, in starting off slowing, I picked a place that would be my starting point, and I had a goal in my mind for the ending point. I started off slowly and about 1/2 the way through the run, I wanted to stop. I was breathing VERY hard. I wanted to drive home and get in the recliner and not move for another month or so. But, that was not going to help me. (I couldn't drive home either, since I walked to the track. My car was at home. That's just the desperateness of the moment speaking)
So... I kept running. I saw the goal and I would not allow myself to stop until I made it there. When I did make it, I thought about doing the happy dance... but realized that I would have passed out if I tried to do the happy dance at that point. Instead, I kept walking.
As I was nearing that starting point again, I decided I could make another run. I did. I hurt. I wheezed. I sweat. I did all those things that an overweight girl who is running does! And yet... I persevered. I made it back to my ending goal and began to walk again. My breaths were sawing in and out and I hoped that the Firefighters across the street didn't think I was dying and rushed over to perform CPR.
Oh. Hang on there. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad after all.
So, I have effectively run the equivalent of one full lap today. Not too shabby for someone who has not run in close to 10 years. I thought that was what I would tell Mr. Fireman if he asked what the Sam Hill I was doing.
Who is Sam Hill anyway?
I came back to the house and drank a gallon of water. Then I called my friend to see if they were interested in working out with some weights. They declined, but said maybe tomorrow.
I'm not waiting on anybody else for this anymore. It is now Woman versus the Scales. I will be triumphant.