I was supposed to run the Jingle Bell 5k this a.m. Ironically, I woke up with joint pain so severe that I couldn't get out of bed at a normal time, much less walk a 5k. Once again, I failed. With the recent snowstorm, I haven't moved with purpose in several weeks. I have no desire to workout. Why? I see no point. No matter what I do, the scale doesn't budge any direction but up. I'm not sure where to go from here, but I know this: I am lost.
After weeks of not working out and traveling, I stepped on the scale Monday to my highest weight ever. Granted a lot of it is indeed fluid, but still, it was a sign that I needed to get back to focusing on my health. After busting my head wide open and battling the concussion, I was lazy. I was lazy in not just my weight loss battle, but all aspects of my life. The doctor warned me that I might have some slight depression/mind fog from the concussion, but I just shrugged it off. Well, Monday it dawned on me that he was right and it was time to crack down on my mind crack. Yesterday, I was getting ready to head to the gym and sign up with my new trainer. (Yeah I dropped the other one. We just weren't clicking and he was way too focused on the scale. Being a recovered anorexic, I just couldn't deal with that.) I was walking out the door, realizing I had a huge sense of dread and anxiety inside me, just waiting to bust out. In the past, I would have ignored those feelings and...
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