So I'm going to admit something to you: I haven't been great at sticking to my food plan this week. *Phew* There I said it, I dropped the ball--though if it had been a donut ball, I would have grabbed that sucker right on up.
On the good side (it's always better to begin with the positives, right?), I went to the gym four times this week, worked in my garden for several hours yesterday, and I'm going on a long walk in just a little bit. So I've truly been quite active for the last couple weeks. On Friday as I was lifting weights upstairs at the gym, I glanced and noticed that my arm appears to have narrowed and has a little muscle ridge. It may be pretty hard to see that definition, but I know it's there. I will say that I've been sore most days of the week for the last couple weeks and I could do without quite so much muscle soreness. Maybe I need to be stretching more. Anyway, that's the good.
Okay, the bad. I am struggling to stay within my calories. On Tuesday I ate too much tasty, but unhealthy stuff at and a teaching meeting. I was careful for the rest of the day, but still ended up going over. Then I saw nothing happen on the scale all week. Weight Watchers used to say that you shouldn't weigh more than once a week because it can drive you crazy and I do understand because that was me this week, but I have to look. But then I get frustrated too. I want to see that number edging downwards, but this week it flipped back up and stayed there.
Normally by Friday I see some progress, but when the scale moved upwards Friday morning, I lost control. It's ridiculous because if I'm not losing weight, that's when I should be at my strongest and push myself hardest, but the opposite actually happens. I give up that day. So bad food things happened on Friday, namely a donut, wine, Cheetos.... And yesterday I skipped lunch (which isn't good because the body needs steady levels of fuel, especially when you're battling rosebushes in the backyard) and being really hungry after, I went out to eat with my husband for Mexican food, followed up by half an ice cream sundae. I'm embarrassed to write that, to admit that to anyone. I think some of the hard part for me is to admit that I'm not perfect, over and over. To tell you what I'm eating when we all know I shouldn't be. I say I lack control. It's silly that I'm worried about what others will think of me, that people will judge, when I'm also convinced that everyone struggles with something in life. We'd all like to be better at something, right? Warrior on people.