I'm now at my highest weight ever. Like more than I was when I got married.
More than when I hit my "breaking point."
|I'd like to be her again|
1. Went on vacation. At the end of June, I was in Mexico for a week, after which I never really got back on track. Typically I'll be super good about food for two weeks before a vacation, then two weeks after. Instead, I batted for the fences and enjoy all the drinks and all the food I could, and worked out rarely during that week because I also fell the first day and scraped my knee open so significantly I couldn't get in the water.
2. Moved cross country ... twice. So that was fun. Moving is really stressful, and took far more energy, effort and attention that I ever thought possible.
|When they say they unpack your stuff, this is what they really mean|
|A new take on minimalism|
|Weight gain is hard to hide in a wetsuit|
6. Got stressed at work. It wouldn't be called work if it wasn't work, right? This spring, I was super diligent about pre-work training sessions and running at lunch. Now, not so much. I really wish that working my ass off meant I really was removing portions of my ass in the process.
7. Stopped weighing myself. I knew I couldn't handle the truth, but I wish I had stopped at five or 10 pounds rather than letting this go on and on.
8. Discovered beer. And not just any beer - really great, amazing craft beer. Which is not low calorie.
9. Went out. A lot. I'm not about to order a salad on a date, so that did not help my cause at all.
So, honest moment over, time to move on. Time to get back to black.