After not working out for two weeks and missing last weekend because I was in the ER… I was feeling great this week. 4 days in row of moderate/high intensity workouts. I stayed mostly within my dailies, straying only slightly. Today should have been my day…
But OH NO. TOM decided to show up unannounced last night and I knew immediately that all my hard work this week (so I could reach Lifetime today) would be completely shot to H-E-double-friggin-hockey sticks. I know how my cycle works. The first three days my body hoards water like it’s friggin Noah’s ark–giving me about 2 extra pounds which absolutely kills me since I’m in maintenance. I did absolutely nothing to warrant this this week. I’m angry because I did nothing this week that would have hurt me on the scale. Absolutely nothing. And now this?
I went to my meeting. I didn’t bother getting on the scale. I weighed myself at home and that was enough to confirm what I already knew. Didn’t help when the lady said, “Are you sure you don’t want to weigh-in? It’s your 6th week on maintenance.” Lifetime should have been mine this week. BUT NO! Mother Nature stormed in and said, “No, you don’t deserve it yet.”
Yes, I’m exceedingly angry… PO-ed… so mad to the point that I’ve dropped the F-bomb about 4 times already and I’ve only been awake for an hour and a half. Yeah, it’s that bad.
Sorry if this is too angsty for you. I’m just… AAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHH! Needed to get it out somehow. I’m eating my morning apple right now, but a half hour after I finish I’m so hitting the treadmill to blast this jumbo out.
And today was supposed to be a great day… *sigh* I’m glad something (aka: someone) will distract me all too well later so it can at least be acceptable if not good.