Part of why things have trailed off a touch on this blog is because of the absolutely absurd amount of gym time I’ve been putting in lately.
5 days a week, killing myself at the gym, waiting for the tiny little reward on Sundays when I see that, if I’m lucky and have been trying to watch what I eat, all that fighting has lost…one pound!
This all started in February, after several weeks of sedentary moping, when I looked at the scale and saw a number I swore I’d never see.
I’m a quarter of the way to where I want to be from where I was, which, thinking about it, is actually pretty decent. But the slow, slow pace is just maddening.
I’m hitting something similar with my foot (which I go to Physical Therapy for the other two days a week), where it’s miles better than it was, but the pain and continued PT are making me nuts.
I want to be in shape and running around, not fighting for ever tenth of an inch of plantarflexion and just about dying on the recumbent bike.
Stupid body. Why must you make me pay for my prior indiscretions?