Yesterday I'd stepped on the scale and saw that there was no change from Monday. This was a bit of a letdown, as I'd really had a great shoulder workout in addition to my cardio the day before. So I decided that perhaps I needed to change my lunch. I went to the grocery store where I always buy my pre-made salads, only this time I went to the salad bar.
Turns out that may have been a huge mistake.
I filled up my salad box with tons of lettuce, broccoli, cauliflower, chicken, eggs, carrots... When I brought it up to the counter, it came to $8 - they charge $6 per pound. Uh oh...
I ate the whole thing, and felt swollen and awful afterward. It was like I'd eaten too much fast food, except for the whole finale with the toilet. Gross. This morning I climbed on the scale and was *up* 1.2 pounds! Seriously... that's after two great days of workouts which followed essentially two weeks of nothing. It came as a surprise, as last night I was doing laundry, and tossed on a pair of jeans my friend Dan had given me as he'd shrunk out of them. Here I was, thinking that I'd lost more weight, when the exact opposite was true! I can't express how foolish I felt when the number came up on the digital readout. And from a salad. And maybe a handful of mini-chocolate bars at work. Oops. Hate that.
But I was right back there this morning, lifting and pressing and jogging, and I'd even kicked the elliptical up another level. I'd been ready to recommit myself totally and then had the bronchitis throw a wrench into my plans, but I do feel like mentally I'm all the way back. And speaking of back... holy crap is mine sore right now. I had my ass kicked yesterday by those deadlifts and rows, and the body is letting me know it.
I also made it a point to count my calories for the day, and I'm glad to say I'm just a shade under 2k. And since I don't snack at night and have already had my dinner (I knew I'd be at work late, so I just left at 5 and scored something healthy), that's where I'll be for the day.
I hope tomorrow brings more success. It's hard to not get too emotionally wrapped up in the news that the scale brings, but when you write a weight loss blog daily, read several others at various points throughout the day, and always think about the goals and the reasons why I'm doing this when I get up and go back to bed in the evening, I end up feeling like a failure who's wasting time, effort and energy when I'm not seeing the results that I need.
But I do know this - consistency will get me where I need to be. So I must Must MUST be consistent and not give in when the little voice inside my head says, "what's the use? why bother? 70+ pounds is enough for now..."
Fuck that voice. Fuck that scale. Fuck these pounds. Fuck this fat.