I've been playing hookie for a few days from blogging and working out. *gasp!* I know! But really, the cold I've been nursing really is a pretty damned good excuse. It came out of nowhere and knocked my flat on my ass on Tuesday, leaving my poor sister, Pati, to play Mama for an afternoon while I slept off an overdose of cold medicine. I'm certain I also had a temperature to go with it, complete with body aches and sniffles, but didn't have the energy to dig the baby thermometer out of Buttercup's toy box. In any case, It's Saturday now and I'm finally clear-headed enough only because I finally ran out of Nyquil to get dressed, try and string a few sentences together, and tentatively plan for a glorious return to the gym for my beloved Zumba classes on Monday.
On the plus side, I finally bought that scale I've been avoiding for the past seven months and it was nice enough to me that I decided not to chuck it out the bedroom window. Turns out I've actually lost 10 pounds since quitting Weight Watchers! Instead, I'm focusing on physical activity and eating the right ratio of lean proteins and good carbs necessary for Insulin Resistant people like me.
And go me! I'm now 15 pounds from my pre-preggo weight, and then 15 more to my goal weight! (And yes, breaking it up like that sounds so much nicer and manageable than the larger reality, so let's just not go there, shall we?)
I have to admit that I think I'm more excited about the fact that I'm making progress so I can finish my book than I am about the fact that my ass isn't taking up as much space as it used to. Strange? Probably. But it's a celebration either way.