Frustration

I know that nothing worth having is ever easy. That being the case, I also know that this whole weight loss thing is going to be next to impossible. But. Prepare for some whining. And no, I don't want any cheese with my whine. I'm watching my weight, thank you! lol

So. I missed two days of working out this weekend. I had Sis1 staying with me Friday and Saturday and no way no how am I suffering through the humiliation of having my sister see me doing my indoor walk routine. (And before anyone suggests a regular outdoor walk, it was 99 degrees with a 116 degree heat index. No thank you!) Normally I wouldn't worry too much about missing a couple of days because I've missed a couple of days before with no problems.

BUT...(there's always a but, right?) This weekend being Lyssa's birthday weekend there was extra food intake. I did the best I could to not OVER indulge. I truly did. (I ordered an appetizer for supper at Applebee's instead of a huge over portioned meal. I skipped the cake and only had ice cream and some M & M's at the party.) Yet somehow, I still managed to screw things up. The numbers on the scale have been consistently up since Sunday and it's annoying the crap outta me.

The only thing keeping me from going completely batcrap crazy is that my clothes still fit a little looser which is good. It kind of helps reign me in and settle me down into reasoning that the numbers on the scale could actually be water retention or something. If I just keep going with my indoor walk and keep eating realistically smaller portions and drinking lots of water I will be okay. The scale will eventually start to move downward again and the clothes will continue to fit larger on me.

Still, it's frustrating. It's annoying. It's a bit of a kick in the gut. All that hard work and discipline. All that sweat. All those bagels I haven't eaten. And...three pounds up from one weekend of less than perfect behavior. This is my life, here. There are going to be times when I CAN'T get my workout in. There are going to be times when for my sanity and fellowship with my family I will indulge. I can't stop living while I'm losing weight. It's not realistic to even entertain the idea that I won't ever indulge again. That there will never be times when it's too excruciating to say no to a bowl of homemade ice cream.

Maybe from now on, when these kinds of weekends happen, I won't weigh myself for a week. I'll continue onward with my routine and eating right but maybe not look at the scale during that time. It's too hard on my psyche to see the numbers go backwards when I know in my heart that three days of minor indulgences can't have possibly truly undone a month's worth of work.