Day 13 of the great 34-day fast. Noon.
I am not xxx pounds this morning. I am xxx.5 pounds this morning. SHIT. Half of a pound still yet to lose by tomorrow just to stay on track.
The thought of another grueling day going back and forth from treadmill to elliptical, thrashing away until my heart is about to pound out of my chest is in itself nauseating. I have strayed too far from the fast. It's time to get back to basics.
I am allowing my body to take the next 2 days off from the gym IF I can stick to liquids ONLY for the remainder of the weekend. Be it coffee, juice, coke, water, flavored water, tea... doesn't matter. I'll try to stay under 250 calories, but if it's a choice between more liquid calories or food, I'm going with liquid. Liquid, liquid, and more liquid. Only liquid.
I refuse, however, to lay around this house moping about how hungry I am, or how tired, or pathetic I am for not going to the gym for two straight days. Distractions will keep me busy, keep me moving, keep me burning. And there's plenty of business to get out there and attend to.
I've got friends to catch up with. The potential for 4th of July celebrations. Church either tonight or tomorrow morning, depending on the conscensus of the carpool. A friend who "desperately" needs help to make every little decision regarding her upcoming move out-of-state. I still have to find those damned red-white-and-blue sprinkles, and I need to make those desserts.
And everywhere I'll go, there will be coffee. Glorious, sensuous, beautiful coffee. I wonder how many lattes on an empty stomach it takes to raise your heart rate?
I know the overload of caffeine is damaging to my internal organs. Yadda yadda. There was a time when I cared, and carefully kept tabs on how much I had ingested on any given day. That was a time when I was counting milligrams of caffeine; now I am counting grams of fat and carbs, and those always detestable CALORIES.
No more sitting here. Out of this house with my fat-ass!