“When all you got to keep is strong,
Move along, move along, like I know you do.”
–All-American Rejects, “Move Along”

Miles Last Week: 46
Total Miles: 349.5

Last week was a bad week, and for a lot of reasons–except for Friday. Friday was good.

We don’t need to talk about most of the reasons that some people might have seen a slightly murder-y glint in my eye at times. We should, however, reflect on a couple of things:

I felt like I was dying every day at the gym.
There was pain. So much pain. And soooo much sweat. Even though I didn’t change any of my workout, my legs were on fire halfway through it. I didn’t want to sacrifice any miles, so I slowed my speed and upped the incline just to feel like I was doing something. I still felt like I was slogging through a tar pit–a tar pit on fire. Every day. I did make myself go the usual distance, but my legs were definitely not happy about it.

I ate terribly (well, slightly more terribly than usual).
There may have been a few too many snacks… and Reese’s peanut butter hearts… Goddammit, why are they so delicious? I might also still be eating emotionally due to the Sherlock finale. It was intense, guys.

I gained two pounds.
I know that people fluctuate and that it’s silly to dwell on a relatively small gain, but the most frustrating thing is that I knew before I weighed myself yesterday that I had put on a couple. I could feel it. Of course, I feel exactly the same after losing fifty pounds, but when I’m a little bigger, suddenly I’m like “WHAT IS GOING ON?”

I’ve had bad weeks throughout this project, but nothing quite like this so far. I don’t recall regaining that much weight in one week or having that much trouble on the elliptical since I started this thing last April. And to top it all off, I can’t honestly say that I’ve lost fifty pounds, anymore.

Much like Alexander, who had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day in Judith Viorst’s children’s book, I am just going to accept that everyone has bad days/weeks at some time or other and move on. Even if there are people who have perfect weeks all the time, I think I’ll just lie to myself about it. Sometimes, there’s nothing wrong with a little denial.

The good news is that there were no invisible, inflamed tar pits at the gym today–that I know of, anyway. We’ll see about tomorrow.