Thursday, August 15, 2013
I quit. I was done. I was exhausted and tired of constantly feeling the loser without actually losing lbs - instead losing motivation and desire and the will(power?) to do what I'd done before to be successful.
So I was going to eat whatever I wanted and get fat again and to h*ll with it all. Maybe I'd even start smoking again.
Eat and do (or not!) whatever I wanted! Yea! I was going to put up the big ole middle finger to a healthy lifestyle and just sink back into oblivion and give up.
Except.. I know if I eat too many processed carbs, my skin breaks out and I hate that.
Except.. I know I'll physically be ill if I eat pasta or rice like I use to, spending far too much time in the bathroom evacuating that bad choice.
Except.. I like being able to breathe now.
Except.. if I don't keep moving I won't be able to take care of my own kids, let alone the kennel kids.
D*mnit, once you know better, it's hard to not do better. I'm not doing stellar by any means. I've gained, again. I've stopped running, again. I've made bad choices, again. But I'm not the same person I was 3 years ago and I can't put the blinders back on and pretend I don't know about better food choices and feeling better and being more active and actually living instead of existing.
I'm not happy about this. I might be grateful for it at some point but right now I'm just ticked.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have healthy veggie-eggs to eat for breakfast and a lap to make around the office. I'll be the one grumbling to herself as she trudges along, unable to actually quit and give up.