So much for my plan to blog more often. It's not that I haven't thought about it. I've started posts at least half a dozen times. I've got them right here in the blogger to prove it. I've started even more in my head.
The past few months have been crazy. Travel nearly every week. One or two good weeks of exercise on the road, but most trips just one shot at the gym or on the road. It's been tough.
Eating has been tougher. I've tried, but not enough. I get on a plan for short bursts, but then I'm off again. A great weekend of working out turns bad on Monday's travel.
I feel like I've gone back to that fat guy that I'd left behind. My clothes don't fit and I've even been forced to buy new pants and shirts. Size 40 and XXL. (Though I insist on wearing my 36 jeans way-too-tight.) Thankfully, I'm teetering in the mid-250's, sometimes almost 260, and not the 300's or, god forbid, the 400's.
The big boss at my company is impressed with my loss and is generous in sharing my accomplishments with others. I wish I didn't feel guilt that "almost 200" is now "well, about 150" pounds lost.
I've lost such fitness, I can hardly believe it. Running a mile without stopping is difficult. I read my friends facebook posts about 10 mile runs and I cower to think how far that is. Then I recall that just five months ago I completed a marathon!
This was to be the year of the bike. My neighbor and I had talked about doing a 100-mile ride on May 1. Last weekend, I though 22 miles was going to kill me.
I go to boot camp where I could not so long ago push out a couple hundred push ups in the hour, not to mention whatever else Kenny had to offer. Now, I'm reduced to my knees after a dozen or two.
I'm lost. I need to find that mojo that I kept for three years. I need more than one day in a row of good eating and exercise.
It's me. I'm not looking for compassion. I'm not looking for a kick in the ass. I know what I need to do. I just need to do it.