This has been both a good weekend, and a bad one. The bad first:
I haven't exercised since Thursday. Labor day weekend just screwed up my routine, and I gave in to the loving "encouragement" from my husband to just "take a day off." After my wonderful Thursday trip, I've done nothing. I feel sluggish and icky, and can't wait until the morning when I can run off my blues. I'm probably going to stay for an ab class, too, so I'll need to drop kiddo off early so I can have time to walk my 5k your way goal.
Now, for the good:
I've conquered the calorie mountain, all weekend! I planned ahead for a bad meal or two, and my net result is that I am STILL under goal for the day, which leaves me just enough room for a bedtime snack. :) I would skip it, but my tummy's a bit growly, so I'm probably going to fix myself a slice of toast or something.
I'm proud of myself... even though I helped myself to FOUR (count 'em) slices of pizza, I didn't eat the crusts (I didn't subtract the calories from my count, though, I had trouble counting calories from my salad at lunch), and my good choices early in the day gave my waistline some wiggle room.
I still don't believe my husband's insistence that I look amazing already (I mean, please, it's 3 lbs, not 30) but it makes me feel good.
What I'm waiting for? The comments from people I haven't seen in a while: "You look great, have you lost weight?"
I want to smile, and declare, "Yes, I did!"
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