Day 3

I have a weight-loss journal. You know the kind you write your food down and they ask you questions like: "What are your goals for the week?" and "What will help you reach your goals" and of course my favorite, "How would you rate the day?"

You want me to rate my day? Well alrighty then.

I'm going to give it a 2...

Let's count with Mr. Stone Cold... One, two.

It was a rough, rough day. I woke up before my alarm and wanted to scream. No, I didn't go to sleep like I wanted at 10:30, it was almost 1am when I finally fell asleep. Another sleep goal failure. *I've got to try better on this!*

And then Zumba was at 8:30. I didn't want to go. My body hurts so freakin' bad I wanted to rest, give my body a break from all this gung-ho bullshit. But I didn't. I pushed myself out the door and to that damn class and worked through the pain.

And be damned if I didn't feel better afterwards.

And then something amazing happened... my appetite returned in full force. I have been so hungry all day. After eating breakfast before zumba, I came home after and had a fruity protein shake, then monster sandwich for lunch (more salad then sandwich but still amazing), fruit, pretzels, cereal for dinner (it's what I wanted!) and then the most amazing chocolate-peanut butter shake I've ever had. And I don't usually do chocolate but, wow. I feel like I cheated on my eating today. The pretzels were an indulgence that I could afford though, and the shake... that just felt wrong, so very wrong yet it was good, so very good! But it was all within Weight Watcher's diet. What the hell? If I actually lose weight from this diet I'm going to hunt down Jennifer Hudson, tackle her and kiss her all over and yell, "You were right! You were right!"

Yes, I got off my ass and moved today. Not only moved but sweated. Sweated? Is that a word? Sounds weird... Anyway, yes, I got my appetite back and am actually eating again which I have to assume is a good thing so maybe my brain will know it will still get fuel and then tell the fat in my body to go away. Moving and eating, two good things for me, right?

Then why do I feel so crappy? My body hates me right now. It's threatening a strike. I'm sure I'm going to wake up tomorrow to find my legs completely walked away from me. I am so scared of burn out. But I have to assume it's so difficult right now because it's all new. I'm not used to moving this much. I have to assume next week will be easier, and the week after that even easier. The sick obsessive part of me though will keep pushing. I am in a competition after all and I intend to do well. I believe my body will be hating me for the next 3 months.

But then I will be loving my body again because I will fit into those jeans that I believed for so long were out of reach. I will go to Florida this summer and not be ashamed to be in a bathing suit. All the pain and sweat and suffereing will be worth it.

My little victory of the day: I did it. I got up when I didn't want to and fucking did it.

Day Three... Done.