I weighed myself this morning. After four days or so of eating well and running a mile and then walking a mile I have... gained 2.5 pounds. *sigh* I can't say I wasn't exceedingly disheartened by this. Yesterday at work I felt SO good about myself. Even though I just began, I was proud of my start and really just felt good about my body and what I was actively doing to improve my shape. Today, after that depressing weigh-in, I spent most of the day feeling uncomfortable and aggravated in my own skin. Whenever I've started to exercise and truly try and eat well before, I've always lost a fair amount of weight initially. Really, it's what helped me start in the past, that knowledge that I would lose some weight pretty quickly, at least in the beginning. Where's my awesome start? I know there's no way I put on 2.5 pounds of muscle after only four days of running.
Another part of my mind reminds me that it's only 2.5 pounds. I may be retaining water. Maybe my bathroom visits haven't been as regular as they should be lately. There are a million reasons and to be honest, it's normal for a person to fluctuate in their weight. But this is the rational part of my brain. The irrational part is the section incessantly whining, "But why? What did I do wrong?"
Not gonna let this get me down though. Today after my 9-hour work shift, I did some grocery shopping (fruits and veggies) and then ran a mile and walked a mile. (If you're wondering what this means, it means that from the end of my driveway to the end of the road where I slap the stop sign in relief is exactly one mile. From there I walk back to my house, which is another mile). And even after all that, I somehow found the energy to do all my dishes, put away the groceries, tidy the dining and living rooms, put away my laundry, and throw another in the machine.
Now I'm tired. I think I've earned a well-deserved rest. Good night!