My run today was miserable. My calves hurt. A lot more walking than running. But, I managed 4 miles.
Took more days off last week than I should have. I’m tired. I’m struggling to remain positive. I weighed myself. Something I don’t do often because I don’t want to feel dependent on the scale to tell me if I’m making progress. I’d rather listen to things like my clothes fitting better, or I have more energy. Well, I weighed myself in the bathroom…after moving the scale around a few times – the bathroom floor has a more cushiony feel to it – I thought I had an accurate weight. Down 7 lbs or so. That felt like a good reflection of how my clothes felt. Then I weighed myself again yesterday, April Fools’ Day, but this time I moved the scale to my bedroom – a harder surface. And no…I was the same weight I’ve been for months. No weight loss. But why did my clothes feel better before and now it feels like I’m busting out of them again? Weird.
I’ve got so many complaints I’ve gotta cut this short and get to bed. I’m tired. I’m struggling. I’m unhappy. I’m overwhelmed. I’m sick of myself. And none of it makes sense because I have so many good things in my life. So much to be grateful for. But that damn dark cloud…it’s hanging over my head again.
Goals…remain the same.