Did I mention I saw my doctor yesterday? Got on the scale and nearly BROKE IT.
She came in (it was more like a social visit) and I was like, "Hi, I'm fat again!" She laughed of course, because that's just so absurd. But she did say she noticed I put the weight back on. The last time she saw me, I was at my lowest emaciated mono weight. ::sigh:: I miss those days.
Anyway, I'm not happy with the numbers. I don't even wanna THINK about the inches all over. This is partly why I haven't wanted to visit my doctor. That scale thing just freaks me out. I already know how heavy I feel in my body. I don't need the numbers to announce it.
I suppose it's a good thing. I've been threatening to get back to my healthy habits. But you know how it is, winter sets in and all I want to do is eat fatty foods. I don't eat a lot as it is. But I eat the wrong foods. Starches and fats. Yum!
Is coffee a starch or a fat?
So, I guess it's essential for my health (and my spirit) to consciously say I'm ready to think about getting back on the wagon. Notice how non-committal that is. Ha. Whatever. A hike a day plus protein, veggies and daily supplements. I want to lose inches and tone muscles. It won't matter then what the numbers say. As long as I feel better, lighter and more fit.
But if we were to talk numbers, I'll be happy with eleven less pounds. I'll be thrilled with fourteen less pounds. But who's counting, right?