Before I was awake enough to think better of the idea, I stepped on the scale this morning.
It looks like I’m up 5.8 pounds since I left town on June 29th, and almost 11 pounds from my overall low from the past year.
It’s not time to panic, it’s just time to get back to regular eating and exercising. I predict that after a few days at home, I’ll drop a couple of pounds just from going back to the gym and upping my water consumption—after all, I just sat in the car for 2,100 miles trying to drink enough water that I wouldn’t be thirsty, but not so much that we’d have to stop every hour for a bathroom break!
When I started this change in my eating and exercise habits over a year ago, I eased into it, and was proud that I didn’t go on a TexMex and ice cream binge the night before switching to the liquid, 800 calorie-a-day regime. Well, apparently that binge happened on time delay, because it seems like the past month for me was really a big farewell tour to bad eating.
Yesterday, I ate two fried pies and had a frozen margarita at dinner. I shudder to think of the calorie count, but I know I’m not going to do it again any time soon.
Onward through the sugar fog! I’m glad to be home, and I guess I know what my short-term goals are:
- Increase water intake
- Get back to the gym (without hurting my heel)
- Go buy some cauliflower and get back to cooking healthy/eating healthy!