We'll call this one "Good News, Bad News." As always, let's take the bad news first.
Weekly Weigh-in: 448.2
Weekly Weight Loss: -7.0 pounds
Total Weight Loss: a negligible 1.3 pounds
It's official. I'm back to square one.
I'm so incredibly frustrated. Yet at the same time, I'm not surprised. I guess I thought somewhere in the back of my head that I'd somehow get away with making bad choices, and still come out losing weight. But this just isn't the case. Bad choices equal bad results.
I'm past the point of simple self-chastisement. I'm downright angry with myself. Furious. I have been given a gift--life, health, and full functionality--and I'm wasting it. Throwing it away for the sake of chocolate milk and little chocolate donuts and cheeseburgers and pizza. It's not worth it.
This junk food, this sugar, it's not worth my life.
I need help. I need change.
And I realized today the one thing I have yet to do: turn to God for help. It's so obvious, I feel foolish for missing it.
Look, I don't know who's ever going to read this, or if you believe in God, but I do. And I believe that He loves me and cares about what's going on in my life. He cares about my health, and wants me to be healthy so that I can honor Him through how I manage this gift of life.
And I have reached the point yet again where I realize that I can't change who I am without His power and His strength to do so. I'm going to keep yo-yo-ing back and forth, making the same mistakes, because my heart isn't right.
So that's where I am now. Flat on my back, back where I started, finally realizing that I can't do this on my own anymore.
And now, the good news:
Yesterday morning, I worked out for the first time in months. I used the Biggest Loser video, my balance ball, and some hand weights. Since it had been a while for me, I figured, "what the heck? let's do the full 75-minute workout."
What's the first rule when you're restarting a fitness regimen? Don't overdo it on the first day.
I overdid it on the first day.
My quads and glutes want me dead. The muscles in my inner thighs want to torture me Jack-Bauer-style and THEN kill me. My upper body isn't as vehemently intent on my demise, but they could be swayed.
And the sad part is, I couldn't make it much further than halfway through the video.
So think of it this way: another unforeseen blessing of not making it to the TV show is that I am spared the embarrassment of passing out on the first day before everyone else does, and probably being voted off for not lasting all the way through any of the workouts.
Anyway. So there. Weight gain and frustration: Bad. Work-out pain and realization of need for divine assistance: Good.
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