Last week, after I returned from Seattle, I was on fire. Not in the literal sense—though I did once set my bathrobe sleeve on fire when I was making tea on a gas stove, which I realize surprises all of no one—but in the motivated sense.
Even with a mild cold, I not only made it to my trainer last Thursday, but I managed to get myself to the gym solo as well. I even decided it was time to fork over the cash to upgrade my gym membership so I could go to all of the Crunch Chicago locations, which means I’ll have no excuses when it comes to working out on Saturday and Sunday (trekking all the way downtown on the weekend to the location I go to during the week was a nightmare, so needless to say, it rarely happened).
And... I’ve been running again. It started out slowly, a mile here, a mile there, two miles before I worked out with my trainer on Thursday, a mile after the cardio tai box class I took on Saturday morning, and three miles on Monday (during which, by the way, I ran my first sub 10 minute mile... I am very proud of me).
The way I see it, one half of the equation has been accomplished. I’m working out regularly... maybe not as hard as I was when I was training for the half marathon, but I’m getting myself to the gym and busting a move at least four days a week. So what about the other half of the equation? The whole "eating" part.
Over the last week and a half, I’ve felt a sense of control return. I’m not sure what happened, and trust me, I’m still far from perfect. I have had a day here and a day there where everything falls apart and I eat like a crazed maniac. Luckily, it seems those days are becoming fewer and farther apart. And much love to Trader Joe's. If you have not been to this place, you have to go. They have tons of low-fat, good-for-you goodies that have helped keep me on track, like the 100 calorie cheddar cheese cracker packs (like Goldfish only they are in the shape of a toucan). Yum.
Now I just have to work on actually making dinner, rather than eating snacks all night. Why is that so hard?