It's Monday. Again. This time last week the mere thought of food had my stomach rolling and flipping and had me calculating whether or not I really needed to dash to the bathroom or if I could just will my mind to ignore my body and go about business as usual. I'm going to call it a tie between mind and body. By Wednesday, I was back to normal. Last week was awful diet and exercise wise. All I really wanted when I didn't feel good were either crackers or cheese toast. The problem with that is I only had crackers and bread made with white flour, which is a no-no on this diet. I can usually resist both of those things with no problem, but not last week. Baby spinach and brown rice just didn't seem nearly as appealing as cheese toast for some odd reason. I didn't overdo it, though, so that's positive. I decided not to weigh last Monday because I knew it would be a false loss - meaning that the extra fluids I lost from the stomach virus would come back as soon as I was eating and drinking again. I was trying to avoid being discouraged or maybe I was just avoiding. Probably it was a bit of both.
I ended up weighing on Friday because I just couldn't stand not knowing. My total loss as of Friday morning is 15 pounds. While that's not exactly bad, I was hoping for more. I also found myself reverting to my usual unhealthy thinking pattern. As in 'I've lost 15 pounds. One (fill in the blank with desired food here) won't really hurt." Which might be true, but seems (for me at least) to pave the way to returning quickly to my bad eating and overeating patterns. It's been harder than I expected for Mom to be here, because some of the foods she, R, and the kids are eating are just hard for me to see being consumed without consuming them myself. I know if I said that out loud, Mom and R wouldn't hesitate to not eat whatever it is, but I've got to learn how to handle situations like that since I'll be dealing with them forever. I am happy to report that when she saw me at the airport, Mom said (without prompting, mind you) I looked great and there have been no neck or chin comments, which leads me to believe that perhaps I overreacted. Shocking idea, I know, but it sure wouldn't be the first time.
So I've been trying to figure out what in the heck is going on with my cravings and desires to eat everything in sight the last few days. Saturday I would have seriously considered trading my car for a double cheeseburger. After Zumba on Sunday, I went to Walmart for milk and New Moon and I walked up and down the Easter candy aisle a couple times. I could actually taste the Reeses' Peanut Butter eggs. I didn't buy any, thank goodness, but when I watched New Moon last night I did eat a single serving bag of Cheetos and some of the spreadable cheese that Mom's been eating all week. And yes, it was on white bread. I asked R to grab some small french bread loaves Sunday when he was out because I made soup. I wasn't expecting to eat any myself, but I did. I could have eaten the whole loaf with ease, so I guess that's the last of the french bread that's coming in this house for a while.
As a result, today I feel tired and bloated and yucky. BLAH. I think for the rest of the day and tomorrow I'll redo the detox (phhhbbttttt) and pick up phase two again on Wednesday. As soon as the childcare room opens at the Y today, I'm packing up the kids and going to work out. S was really opposed to going this morning, but she'll usually go if T does. And getting a really good workout in will do a lot to helping me get back on track.
This was absolutely not my best week. But tomorrow is another day and this is now a one day at a time kind of thing. See you next week.
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