OK, now my body (and the scale) is just playing games with me.
As you may have seen with yesterday’s post, my weight jumped up six pounds in six days, a feat of fat-lardiness that had never been experienced before. It was a glorious fatxplosion of self-hatred and jiggle when I hopped off of the scale in the morning and I carried that stress/anxiety/anger throughout most of the day.
Understandably, I was freaking the *bleep* out yesterday.
I ate relatively well (except for a small bowl of coconut ice cream post-gym) yesterday and expected to see nominal difference on the scale today, because that’s just how my life normally works as a yo-yo dieter.
This morning, I was 135.6.
Granted, it’s not the beautiful 133.8 I was last Monday, but it’s down four pounds overnight (did the pudge-fairy visit last night?) and I felt somewhat better compared to yesterday. At least last week’s week-long diet faux-pas hadn’t truly destroyed all of the my success from the month.
So that’s something.
I am getting a bit annoyed with the head-games the scale (my weight) has been playing with me lately. The ups, the downs. It’s enough to drive a girl insane! I think I may try to avoid weighing myself again until Friday so I can actually see true change versus the “tide” movements of my water weight.
Until then, bon appetit, my friends!