I had a post prepared the other night titled 'Tomorrow.' That was about the alarm clock turned on and treadmill dusted off and prepped for my 4am return to normalcy I prefer. But then my body caught wind of my plans and tossed them overboard like an scary looking fish that accidentally got caught.
Hubs has been supportive of my setback, he's actually stepped up quite a bit with helping out for dinner and the kidlet management while I'm struggling with this head game (call it migraines, sinus, crud, whatever...it hurts like hell) He voiced his concerns of my walking outside and we had agreed to keep me nearby with the treadmill while my head is wonky. That of course didn't happen because of said wonkiness. And he then made me feel less guilty by reminding me that I may have to put my running and quest on the backburner while the docs figure out this wonky head thing. The guilt was eased slightly.
But then this morning I had to jump into my online medical chart and saw the reality of 2014.
I am up four pounds from December 2013.
Sounds acceptable right? Not too bad considering that my activity since April has been pretty much bubkiss?
No, the reality is that those 4lbs, bumped me back into a decade I never was to see again. A decade now that is two above my target weight.
A decade that has bumped my supposed BMI
out of the "normal" category
I am on standby until another doctor appointment on July 7th with another specialist. Hubs wants me to wait and see, but I am hoping to get some walks in the meantime with a partner or someone with me.
Because I can't let this scale business depress me to the point of not wanting to workout, because then the scale has won the battle. As long as my 'want' and 'desire' is still here, I'm going to try to do something, anything to keep me from falling further down the hole.