I reflect, when I am in this situation of repeatedly getting on and falling off again, that the damned wagon is trying to get rid of me.
But here I am again, determinedly starting afresh at the cusp of springtime. Yesterday, I took my knitting for a walk during my lunch break--and again today. Today, I have eaten very carefully thus far, and plan to get it all down into SparkPeople before I chicken out.
I've undone the work I did in January. This doesn't entirely surprise me. I was sick for about 6 weeks straight, between upper-respiratory and crazy abdominal gynecological weirdness. I'm over it now. I'm less stressed about work than I was, and I am happily taking steps toward work-related dream-fulfillment. Today we went to the playground without boots or snow pants, and despite the wind we didn't really need our coats. So March seems a better time than January to try... though January seemed a good time to try when I tried.
I could just give up, right? I could accept that my body is carrying around a good 65 extra pounds and go back to the Oreos. I could lie down and refuse to get up. What good is it gonna do anyway, eh? I'm just gonna gain it all back in a month. Or two.
It's tempting, it really is.
But if we don't fight against osmosis, if we let the universe come to bits around our feet and don't struggle to put things back in their orderly places, then we might as well curl up and die. I'm not ready for that. My brain does horrible things to my body when I am battling depression, fatigue, and illness. My brain does not-so-great things to my body some other times too: when cake calls, or that fabulous cheesy ravioli in cream sauce... But there's more than one side to my brain. I'm a fairly smart gal, you know. I might even be able to outsmart myself.
Moving my body, watching my food intake... things I really am not fond of, but I must do them in order to keep from an early grave.
Back on the wagon. Back on the bicycle. Riding again.
|Pirate Baby Hat for Steph!|
|Me... in my happy new Rainbow Phoenix Scarf|