One Week at a Time

It's ironic. My last post dealt with stress and this week ended up being one of the most stressful weeks of my life. The irony here is that while I was expecting stress, new things kept popping up to make it worse and worse. You know how it is...you think things have reached the lowest of the low and then your car gets towed. No, seriously, my car got towed on Thursday.

Like last week, these painful moments in life take a toll on my goals. In truth, since I've started working out I've stopped making eating goals. But you get my meaning. How can I follow the basic rules when I'm ready to rip out my hair?

As the week started and I felt like my world was spinning out of control I had no appetite. Of course I was eating, but for the first time in my life my response to stress was to eat less. I even bought a really expensive bar of dark chocolate to nibble on, just in case (I read that dark chocolate, 70% or higher, is better for cravings because it's a bit healthier, and because the strong flavor makes you eat less). I think it was Tuesday night that I found myself eating two bowls of Cinnamon Toast Crunch for dinner. I justified it because I barely at that day. Then on Thursday I found myself gorging. I needed bread and our work retreat had some really delicious, bready options. Unfortunately one day of gorging leads to more. I bought a deep dish pizza with cheesy bread last night and had three pieces of each. It was delicious, but I should have at least gotten thin crust.

Through the week I was actually able to workout on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, and Saturday. Unfortunately I had more pressing issues (like getting my car back) that prevented me from working out on those days I didn't.

The good news is, while my weight is remaining the same, I've lost two inches in total (half an inch here and there on different parts).

This post is kind of hard to write. I don't blame you if you didn't read this far. The reason I'm writing it is because when I started this blog I wanted to be honest about the things I think we all struggle with but are too afraid to say. I don't want this blog to only reflect the easy moments in this journey. It's really, really hard. It gets a bit easier every day, but there are these continual stumbling blocks that life just has to throw our way no matter what. I can either throw in the towel or just keep swimming.

Giving up lead me to where I was in December: almost 190 lbs. and feeling incredibly depressed about my life. Now I'm down to 182. I've lost 5 lbs. and 4 inches. Yes, it is a struggle each day to stick to it, and I sometimes don't. But I have to convince myself that it's worth it. Even if the numbers stand still, it has to be worth it.

Quick Update

Okay, okay, yesterday's post may have been a bit hasty. While I'm still disappointed in my poundage, I measured myself this morning and found that I've lost 2 inches off my waist (from 35 to 33, I know you're curious) since January 22. I had planned to wait until February 22 to re-measure, but I needed to feel better. Bad news is, every other measurement is still the same. Maybe I should look on the bright side, because who knows how many inches I could have gained had I not been changing my ways.

Gym update
Yesterday at the gym I felt similar struggles to keep up a fast pace. I know that putting the treadmill on a steep incline and speed walking can be just as effective, I was looking forward to running again, but just couldn't quite get there. Even with 10 minutes warming up I found myself being held back with the strenuous jog. Today I spent 30 minutes on the recumbent bike, hopped on the treadmill, and again found myself going way faster than I normally do. Now, I had it on a much lower incline than normal so I can't say for sure that it was the bike that did the trick, but I can say that I was able to go twice as fast for twice as long for a whopping 25 minutes.

And boy, did I sweat. I never realized how fantastic sweat is. I love that feeling of it seeping down, soaking my clothes. I love wiping my hand across my forehead and then my hand across my shirt. Nothing, and I mean nothing, gets me as sweaty as the treadmill, and it is by far the most liberating feeling of my life.