Wednesday, November 30, 2011
It's been driving me crazy. It's been making the little voice in my head say, "Well obviously it doesn't matter HOW much you do..." It's been making me make bad choices. "IT" is the dreaded plateau.
I worked harder for a few days, working out more and concentrating on my nutrition. Then the combination of staying at the same point on the scale and Thanksgiving was sort of, er, derailing. I couldn't even move for two days after the megahike on Saturday except to get my bare minimum of walking in, but I decided yesterday that I was going back to first principles. I decided to start with water. I have to have a Gatorade bottle to actually drink my full amount. I don't know what it is, but I only take sips from a glass and then put it down and forget it, but when I put my water in that bottle I drink more. Why fight it? I actually drank all my water yesterday.
Then I hopped on the scale this morning, steeling myself for the result, and saw I'd finally lost those pesky two pounds I put back on, plus another quarter pound. I think I actually levitated for a moment, I was so happy (wait, maybe that explains that extra quarter pound). Seeing that progress made me buckle back down mentally, and I worked out for a full hour today and made the time to track everything.
Progress, not perfection.