I'm feeling better today, thanks for asking. Not so grouchy, though this morning did not start off well. Also, I'm supremely busy at work right now with our biggest event of the year coming up, plus my newsletter is due in two weeks and I'm not feeling quite as good about this one as I have the others.
BUT, I just got back from my exercise class and I'm feeling pretty good. Must be those endorphins everybody's always talking about. I, frankly, had never encountered them before. When I was running (very briefly) in college, I kept waiting for that runner's high you hear so much about. I never did find that mythical beast, just the shakes after I finished my first 5K.
But when I get home from my exercise class I feel like I could do anything. I have the urge to fight the piles of crap that are lying everywhere. The pile of folded clothes mocks me! I want to take on the world! But unfortunately (fortunately?) it's late and there's only so much I can get done. Also, here I am blogging when I could be sweeping. Oh well.
Anyway, I fully credit this class with helping me reach my goal weight. Back in January I was .4 pounds (that's point four pounds, not four pounds) away from goal. The next week I was EXTRA good. I didn't count my points, but I'm pretty good now with figuring out what I need to eat to lose/maintain. I didn't even eat our Friday night pizza that week. And when I went in on January 19th for my weigh in, I fully expected to be at or below goal. But when I stepped on the scale, I had GAINED .8 pounds. Which now meant that I had to lose 1.2 pounds to meet goal!!
My leader told me not to get discouraged, but I did. I basically went on a bender for the next two weeks, eating pretty much whatever I wanted. And I felt my jeans start to get tight. And I got really pissed at myself. So, I signed up for this class because usually when I'm exercising I try to eat well so that I don't undo all my hard work. If I'm going to have to sweat off the calories, it makes me think twice about what I put in my mouth.
Also, I'm going to be 37 this year. Thirty-seven! That year is significant for me because that is how old my grandmother was when she died (in 1940). That is young, y'all. I can remember when my own mother turned 37 she started running and I can now understand this compulsion for health. You want to feel alive. You want to do everything you can to stay alive, to be healthy, to increase your odds of a long life. To see your babies grow up.
So, I get back on the wagon. I watch what I eat. I am (finally) exercising. And I feel good.
Now, let me go tackle that load of laundry.