So I caved. I weighed myself.
I haven't weighed that little since I quit smoking back in March of 2009. In fact, when I quit smoking I weighed 147.
So my dears.... BOOyah!!!!!! Yes, yes, yes!!!
Now I'm going to ignore the scale again for... awhile. I figure the latest I'll weigh myself will be the beginning of November, but I'm not going to carve that in stone or anything.
Weirdly, I'm not worried about flaking out with being under 150. I weighed in because finally the worry that I was eating too much (yes, it's a valid concern -- I'm working out heavily but I'm 40 and perimenopausal, so my metabolism is freakish) outweighed my fear that I'd gorge upon learning I was below some arbitrary scale number. Now I've seen that I can go on eating exactly as I have been, which is something I can easily live with
I eat in the low 1400's most days with some spikes to the upper 1600's, for the record. Average weekly calorie burn due to exercise is 2000.
I'm totally on a roll at the moment, too. I've not gone outside my calorie range, not even deliberately, for nearly three weeks. Additionally, I've made my exercise goals for over three weeks. I still don't have a problem with planned overages, but for right now I'm on what we at SparkPeople call a "streak" and I'm going to see how long I can drag this sucker out.
In the world of food, I finally managed to make baked sweet potato fries. I searched around for a good recipe for them (weirdly I am not a fan of sweet potatoes -- tubers should be savory, not sweet), and I finally came upon a recipe that used curry powder with them.
Total score. They were awesome. Even the kids liked them.
Tomorrow I've got a pork shoulder I'm going to roast. No, it's not low on the calorie end, but with a bit of moderation (and a bit more concentration on, say, more sweet potato fries), it will fit into my plan just fine.
That sucker is 8 pounds. Choreboy is going to have some serious leftovers to hoover down. We might have to call my little brother in to pinch hit.
On the exercise front, I'd started back up with C25K and my knee raised a ruckus. I'm really annoyed by that, but I guess my father's right. I'd told him I'd started running again and he clutched his head.
"I don't know what it is with your brother and you. You both just need to come to peace with the fact that your bodies, through ill-luck with genetics, are fragile. Why can't you pick something you are able to do regularly and just do it?"
"Because it gets boring?"
"Okay, that's a point. But still..."
So here I am, walking my ass off again rather than running. I might have to completely give up the thought of running a 5K. It kind of sucks that I've managed to get too old for my body to cooperate with that sort of thing, but at least I can still do little intervals and sprints here at home, and my walking exercise is at 5% incline at minimum for 60 minutes, so it's not like I'm taking it easy.
Okay, in theory Choreboy should be home soon -- "theory" because his assistant manager has a mysterious variant of morning sickness that only strikes on the weekend, thus requiring that my husband come in to work for her. Fortunately, he's her boss so this won't continue forever. But for now I'm trying to bite my tongue.
And before himself spills it in the comments, I'm failing miserably at this whole tongue-biting dealie. But in my defense, we haven't had a single weekend day together for nearly three weeks.
And I'm old.
And I'm outta here before I whine much more. Have an awesome weekend, folks!
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