As you know, I completed 12 weeks of Body for Life. I lost 15 lbs, lost 15 inches and was feeling like a new person. We're starting up another round on Monday and decided to take a week off since my M.I.L. is in town for the whole week.
I told myself it was going to be a week off mainly just from our rigorous exercise routine, but that I'd still eat healthy the majority of the week as to not gain tons of weight back.
Well...that was last week, this is now.
It's not easy to eat healthy when you have a house guest that's on vacation. You go out to eat, you become the entertainment committee and let's face it, a lot of entertaining revolves around food. What are we going to have for lunch? What are we making for dinner? How close will my heart come to stopping when I eat this? You know, typical conversations.
Here's the good news. I've only gained about 2.5 lbs. Which considering everything, is pretty ok.
Here's the bad news. I feel like death waved it's black cloudy hands over my body and cast some magical feel like crap spell on me. I've been tired, really tired. I napped today from 3:00-5:00, and while napping is in my DNA-I come from a long lineage of professional nappers, this was not your typical Sunday nap. This was a I need sleep NOW nap. This was a nap where your body just shuts down and says... too much fat, too much sugar, must induce coma. I'm not fond of those naps. I had to force myself to get up at 5:00.
I don't even feel like I've been eating THAT bad either. More like how I'd typically eat before BFL, with a few random restaurant dinners thrown in for good caloric measure. But WOW, the effect it's had, WOW. Or is it Affect? Effect, Affect, I can never remember witch one to use. Get it...witch one? English teachers all over the world just died a little inside with that last sentence.
My insides are all messed up. I'm bloated and gassy and just pretty miserable. My best friend likes to call the bad bowels "#11's" which I find hilarious. We are SO talking about poop here people! No wait, never mind, I can't do it. Moving on.
Before I started this magical mystical tour that is Body for Life, I thought I felt good. I didn't feel great, but I thought good was a nice descriptor. I was wrong. I think you eat like crap for so long that you forget what it's like to really feel good. Sort of when you have pain, you live with it for so long that you forget life before pain. I have a point here, stay with me.
What I'm saying is that I think it was important to take this week off. To really remember how shitty I felt before all this started. To really absorb the true damage I was doing. To remember that fajita burritos are NOT my friend. This week was just the sort of thing I needed to find that second wind. I'm going to say something that I truly NEVER thought I'd say.
I can't wait to get back in the gym on Monday. I can't wait to start eating healthy again.
I know at least half of you out there reading this, think I'm bluffing. You think I don't really feel like that. I used to think people who said crap like that... crap like, "oh I love working out" uh yeah sure you do crazy pants, were lying. Trying to fool themselves into actually enjoying pushing themselves. I get it now though. I mean, I'm not dying to wake up in the morning and hit the bike, but overall I really really enjoy the benefits of working out and eating healthy. So cliche. Who have I become?
I've become a person who prefers to feel alive instead of dead on the couch watching Maury. I really hate the Maury show, but GD, my MIL loves it and if I have to sit through another "I want a DNA test to prove your my baby daddy" I'll go insane!
Mama needs a spin class STAT!