The Scale.
Let's let this be confession and revelation week, shall we?
It's been a long cold winter. A long, cold winter. I will now admit to taking on bad habits that I never wanted to have, like wearing leggings around the house all day. Leggings. You know how I feel about leggings and I did it anyway. (side note: A lot of this particular behavior stems from the fact that it's been really super cold and it was just easier to stay in the warmed up clothes I already had on than to change into new, cold clothes. But I digress.) And apparently it was a hungry winter.
Around the end of January I started to feel as though things like thighs were no longer in their standard proportion. I decided I needed to start exercising- for several reasons- but mainly I just didn't like how I felt. Then February and early March happened and there were holidays and occasions and business trips and other things that threw off the schedule which also threw off the eating as well as the exercising. Now that I think back on it, there were a lot of baked goods in a short span of time. While I don't tend to overeat, I do have a weakness for sweet carbs, and there was a big string of them.
Over the weekend I put on a pair of pants that I hadn't worn in awhile and to my horror, I couldn't get them fastened. And more to my horror was my husband caught this moment of me struggling with the button. Then he asked if I had gained weight- not in a mean-nasty way but just matter-of-factly asking, and I just kind of shook my head vaguely and ignored him. And then I went to exercise.
Tonight I decided to step on the scale and face the number, just so I knew what I was in for. Somehow the number was 20 pounds higher than where I usually am. That makes me super frustrated with myself that I let things get out of whack like that. The number itself isn't important, but it is a true gauge of where I should be and where I am. I know there is probably someone reading this that thinks I shouldn't have an idea of where I "should" be and that any size is just fine, and I have no problem with that, but my pants don't fit and I don't want to buy bigger ones. I'm not okay with that. I'm also not a big person and 20 pounds is a lot of me and I don't like where it's decided to settle.
So along with trying to finagle a better schedule for myself, let's fit some steady exercise into the mix, plus drop the donuts and drink more water. I've just been suddenly feeling like things have just gone way off track in so many areas and I need to actively attend to fixing those things to make sure it's all working better. This is where I blame the leggings- they're too damn forgiving.
On the positive side, thank you all for the comments yesterday. I'm both glad I'm not the only one and sorry that I can't help give you all more time in your day. Anyone else also feeling squidgy, too? Are you also looking at the wrong number on the scale? It was a hard winter, right?
