I had a lovely visit home with my Mom this past weekend. I went to a dear friend's bridal shower and was only responsible for one other little person, a much lighter load than usual. Emma was a dream, the perfect travel companion. We only had to pull over once for a bathroom break and to feed her, she didn't steal any of my snacks and I got to listen to whatever I wanted. She is superb. I clearly had a too marvelous time, since I gained five pounds in the last week, and though there were slight other factors that might have exacerbated it, I am pretty sure at least four of the five pounds were added over the last three days. In case you wondered if that was physically possible--it totally is.
Am I trudging on? Of course. What choice do I have? Do I give in and weigh 220 pounds again? Do I backslide and live the life of free-eating? Tempting. Or do I take a day off of tracking to give myself a break in preparation for the buckling down that will dawn tomorrow. I'll vote for the final option. I stepped on some freak poison thorn yesterday at the park and so have been limping around on my aching foot ever since. I'm not sure what I'll do if I can't at least walk for exercise tomorrow. I am super excited about my exercise schedule. I think I've created a nice, well-rounded routine, that will give my body enough variety to create nice results. If I do it. And if I stop eating. And if I never see my mother again. One day I will be able to spend more than two consecutive hours in NC and not lose total dietary control. That day was not Friday. . . or Saturday. . .or Sunday. And today, I've eaten three pieces of toast and if Lucy doesn't finish the piece I gave her for lunch, I call dibs. "Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. . ."---was MacBeth really all about dieting??