I've found myself a little in the dumps this week. I was really happy with my three pound loss during the last weigh in. You may even say I got a little overconfident. I've only got three pounds left to go in six weeks, so it's in the bag right? That was my thought when I went out to lunch Sunday afternoon. So I ordered myself a big beer or three, and even though I opted for a veggie wrap at lunch, those veggies were tempura fried and served w/ Thai peanut sauce and fries. After that I proceeded to the my favorite local craft beer store and picked up a 4 pack of Dogfish Head's Palo Santo Marron of which I had 3 when I got home. Dark, delicious, decadent, calorie laden Palo Santo. I was really living.
That seems to have opened the floodgates. I started emotionally eating at the beginning of this week, and by Wednesday found myself up 11 pounds from Sunday's weight. Shame spiral ensued. I've spent the better part of this week beating myself up. It took me a long time to realize that this likely wasn't the end of the world. I'm incredibly lucky to have such a supportive spouse who knows me well enough to know just what to say to put these things in perspective and get me back on course.
With that in mind I headed into the gym today, understanding that it was time to knuckle down. If I'm to lose weight this week, maybe even just break even, I can't continue to lay down. I wallowed enough earlier this week and this was my first workout since Saturday. I need to make them count. I've decided that it's possible for me to get over 15 miles in before the end of the week. It starts now. 6 miles done on the treadmill today plus some time on the elliptical. No more excuses. I've not got much farther to go. It's crunch time.