The day before Easter we had a major sewage backup and spill in the downstairs bathroom (it continued to flow into the laundry room and almost reached the kitchen, but we were able to mop it up before it creeped that far.) The problem was due to a huge root system that was growing inside the pipe.
Yeah, the plumber took it with him to show the other guys. He said it was the biggest he's ever seen.
Now on the less smelly, more on topic stuff:
Due to that gross event our scale, which was in the bathroom, was thrown out. So, I haven't weighed myself since the beginning of April.
Exercise wise, April and May have been really great months. I have been getting out at least 3 times a week to run and usually we make it to the gym once or twice. I completed a 5K and my first half marathon. About a week after the half, I started focusing more on my arms and abs in an attempt to get ready for the beach. (My newest goal is to be beach ready by the end of July. Now, I would love to have a goal of a flat belly by then, but I don't see that as an attainable goal. So, I'll take being comfortable and confident in my swimsuit. Much more attainable.)
All my workout the past two months has had me feeling pretty good. I have more energy, I'm happier, I even think I have a little more patience (though PT tests that constantly, right now she is running around in circle in her room during "nap time.") I was even feeling, dare I say it, skinnier. I saw myself in a pane of glass as we walked by a store front and I was pleasantly surprised. I have definitely been losing that baby weight! (And the extra that was there pre-baby. We don't talk about that though.)
I had no idea what number my weight was and I was content knowing that I was feeling better about my size and my body image then I have in a long time. But, I was so confident that I had lost weight since we tossed the scale. I was feeling so great that I decided to use the scale at the gym to see just how great I was doing.
TERRIBLE IDEA! Well, it was at first anyway. I had lost a pound, maybe two. That's all. In almost two months! I was so upset. Again, I was back to feeling like I wasn't doing enough, that I should change my diet (yeah right, that's just not happening,) that feeling of why am I doing this in the first place came back. That one number held more weight in my mind then months of exercise. Months of increasing mental strength and even growing inner peace, acceptance and approval of myself. I am my toughest critic. I always have been. And all it took was that one three digit number to make me fall back into thinking about my body image negatively. I didn't feel skinny any more. All of a sudden all of the areas I thought were getting smaller and tighter seemed flabby and round again. But of course, in the seconds I was on the scale nothing physically changed. Mentally, I slipped, I had lost some ground.
This was about a week ago and I worked more this week on increasing my lean muscle. Some Pilates and weight training combined with running and a lot more squats and sit-ups. I dared to get myself on the scale again. TWO and A HALF POUNDS GONE! Really?? In a week?? WHOOT! This week the scale had the opposite effect on my mood and body image. It gave me a boost I needed to start feeling better in my own skin again. Now, I probably had an off day a week ago. Maybe I was retaining water or maybe I'm turning fat into muscle (that would be nice) or who knows what. Really a four-five pound swing in a week really isn't a big deal either way, but my reaction to each number was drastically different.
Why do we let that pesky number have so much control over our mindset?? If you are feeling good about where you are, don't let those lousy three digits define you. I won't be stepping on a scale for awhile, I don't want to by tied to my weight any more. How about you??
