Today I thought it would be a good idea to consume far too many chewy candies on an empty stomach whilst intently watching The Highwaymen.
Watching The Highwaymen: Excellent idea.
Eating handfuls of fruity candy: Wretched idea.
I should have known it wouldn’t be a successful day for my diet when plans were made to have a late dinner with my family.
On the surface, this would seem like a completely innocent arrangement. After all, I love Chinese food and would eat it every single day for the rest of my life if I could. Oh no, I was definitely looking forward to my beloved fried rice and wonton soup.
The problem wasn’t what I’d be eating, but how late dinner was scheduled to be. As much as I thoroughly enjoy night dining, it simply isn’t compatible with my lifestyle any longer.
You see, the way my body is now set up, I am used to eating my largest meal of the day no later than 1 or 2 o’clock. Eating any later than that would require me to eat several times beforehand in order to keep myself from becoming dizzy, nauseous, or any other uncomfortably peculiar state of being. Having a few snacks throughout the day wouldn’t be an issue if I weren’t counting calories… BUT I AM.
So, just as expected, I spent most of the day completely paranoid. I feared that I would get hungry well before dinner, end up eating too many calories, and be left with no calories to even have dinner with. It was my full intention to have nothing until four, which was when dinner was to take place.
However, by noon I started getting a bit irritable, so I broke down and had a few crackers and cheese with a no-calorie drink. Even though this wasn’t necessarily the best snack choice in the world, I thought it would keep me satisfied for the next four hours. Then I would have dinner and everything would be fine for the remainder of the day.
Was I satisfied for the next four hours? Yes. Did I have dinner at four as planned? Negative.
Four o’clock rolls around and no one (but me) was ready to have dinner. Automatically, I was like:
“Hungry… so very hungry. Won’t–make it. *cough cough* Need… food… now.”
What happens to be the closest edible thing I could grab? Chewy fruity candy.
Yes, yes, I know… chewy fruity candy should never be within arm’s reach of someone on a diet. I won’t even try to come up with an excuse for why I thought I could be trusted with them. They were perfectly happy up in the cabinet; why did I have to go and disturb them?
According to my plans, I’d only have “five or six”.
Ya’ll… by the time I had gotten a few minutes into the movie I had totally lost track of what I was doing, once again allowing myself to fall victim to mindless eating. This could have been prevented. I never should have taken the whole package back upstairs with me. If only I’d poured a few out into a little bowl and left the rest in the kitchen! I surely would have been too lazy to get up and grab more. 😆
Don’t worry though… all of that candy came back to haunt me with a vengeance. Not even ten minutes after finishing the package, I started to feel as sick as a dog. I’m not sure what happened, but all of that sugar rushing through my bloodstream quickly made me regret having a mouth to eat them with.
Though my eyes were glued to the screen (the movie was almost over by that point), my mind was focused on the queasy feeling that was brewing in the pit of my candy-lined stomach. All concerns over my postponed dinner plans flew right out the window as I doubled over in bed cursing the day candy was first invented. I felt SO sick.
Anyhow, we didn’t end up having dinner until nearly 8 o’clock, which is the latest I’ve eaten in a really, really long time. Even by then, I still felt really cranky and out of it, so I will not be touching those candies anytime soon. At least I can say the food was quite worth the wait.
Now let’s talk about the torture I went through this morning.
Today’s Workout: 1 hour (with 10 minutes stretching/cool down). Full body cardio with toning. 3-lb dumbbells.
So, remember that “5 mile walk at home” workout I mentioned in yesterday’s post? You know, the one I was “excited to try”? Well, I tried it alright. It’s an absolute miracle that I survived to tell the tale! 😂
As usual, I didn’t feel like rolling out of bed to put my gym clothes on. Nothing new. I’m really glad that I’m continuing to keep up with my morning workouts though because in the past this would have been a totally different story. I would have promised myself that I’d “do it later”, before “forgetting” to workout until several months later.
Right from the beginning of the video the girl was like, “Let’s just grab some light weights. Two to three pounds will be perfect. You don’t need anything heavier since we’ll be using them so much.” So I’m thinking, “Okay, let me just do what she says and grab my little 3 lb weights. This is going to be a piece of cake.”
What’s that saying again? Pride comes before the fall? Yeah, that sounds about right because here I was thinking this workout was going to be soooo easy. After all, I haven’t bothered to use my 3 lb weights since like, high school. Besides that, an hour isn’t really the end of the world. I mean, it’s not thirty minutes (which I would greatly prefer), but it’s not two hours either.
You guys… good grief. 😓 The mere act of recalling this morning’s workout is giving me PTSD. This girl wanted me to not only march without stopping once, but simultaneously wave my weights around every which way for a whole hour. She had me looking like:
Now, I can march. I can lift weights. But when you start asking me to do both at the same time for an hour straight, you’ve got a whole other thing coming, sister.
Twenty minutes into that workout I thought I was being punished for existing, no lie. My body parts were checking out so fast you would have thought I was a hotel clerk.
Every part of my body was on fire and I was drenched in sweat. This was such a freaky experience for me because I don’t sweat. For years I’ve said that no matter how hard I work out, I rarely ever sweat, so this was shocking.
When the second “mile” ended I was thinking, “I can’t do this. I have to stop. I’m stopping. Oh yeah, there’s no way I can do this. I’m done.”
My muscles felt like they were giving out, and my mouth was bone dry (despite having inhaled two bottles of water). Besides, this girl was seriously putting the “dead” in deadlift.
I came SO close to hitting the ‘Stop’ button and calling it quits, but for some reason I didn’t. Instead of giving up, I simply put the weights down. It was just the adjustment I needed to keep going, and I am so glad that I did.
Although I can’t say the remaining three miles were easy, I felt empowered to keep going. Instead of allowing myself to feel bad about being too tired to use the weights the entire time, I focused on simply doing what I could to get the most out of each movement.
I made sure that my form was as close to perfect as possible, and most importantly, I gave it everything I had. When it was all over, I was so very proud of myself. Sure, I was hurting from head to toe, but proud nonetheless.
Currently, I have no idea what my workout for tomorrow will be. I’d been thinking about following along with a ballet routine that I like, so I might do that. It’s usually pretty challenging, but slow paced enough to not make me regret waking up that day. 😂 I don’t want to get ahead of myself though.
I’ll be lucky to make it out of bed tomorrow, let alone move. 😨
Today was Day 6.
Challenge births change. 💪🏽🏋️♀️
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