It has been determined...

INDUBITABLY determined, that I will NEVER be a runner.

Sometimes, the best thing a person can do to get where they're going is to admit they're lost and make a u-turn or stop and ask for directions.

I made it through the first week of the C25K program before my bad ankle crapped out on me. It was fun while it lasted. I've determined, however, that it's in my best interest to avoid the necessity of having the surgery my podiatrist recommended. Remember? I think I might have mentioned a while ago. It's the surgery where he replaces my "over-pulled taffy" ligaments in my ankle with ligaments that some dead person is no longer using. Gross. Gross. GROSS!!! Besides being a disgusting idea, the MINIMUM recovery time from this surgery is six weeks. That's six weeks being completely non-weight bearing...rolling around on one of those little carts. That's six weeks best case scenario. Considering that every time I've ever had surgery MY recovery time has been more like twelve times the best case scenario/average recovery time, all I can say to the whole notion is, "Thanks but no thanks!"

I prefer to reassess my goal. OK. I'm done. My goal of running a 5K is vapor. Gone. Poof!

Being able to WALK > Being able to run

In other news:

Tomorrow marks five weeks until I leave for my cruise. My weight loss has been pretty much stalled (not accounting for the 12 pounds I GAINED while I was completely out of commission with the vertigo) for a while now. I reintroduced a lot of bad eating habits while my fat ass and I were sitting around waiting for the world to stop spinning. When I was finally able to start working out again, I used all the exercise as an EXCUSE for eating extra crap. Great excuse, isn't it? "Sure, I can eat 2000 calories worth of pizza tonight. I burned off at least 300 calories on the treadmill this afternoon." Smart stuff.

So, like I said, I've got 5 weeks. I know how fast I can lose weight when I eat right. I've got my trainer's help. I've found lots of classes at the gym that I adore. I don't need to be able to RUN to get where I'm going. I do need to quit stopping to pick up junk food along the way! All those detours are making the trip take a lot longer.

A little less than...

one down (0.8 to be precise)...many more to go. I didn't quite hit the two pounds my bugg and I were shooting for this week, but I'm going to call it a success regardless. I still lost and thankfully didn't GAIN!

Success points:

* I managed to keep track of what I was eating...EVERY SINGLE DAY!
* I managed to get to the gym (only once but I was doing PLANKS - real ones!)
* I did my physical therapy on the bike on 4 other days besides the gym day.
* I had LOTS of opportunities to make some really bad food choices and passed them up.
* I had calorie deficits on days when I thought I was going to have
surpluses...just because of extra activity.

For the sake of not psyching myself out, I'm not going to call them "failure" points:

* On one day, I ate and ate and ate...and didn't exercise...and ended up with a
calorie SURPLUS of over 1800 calories!
* I used food, once again, to comfort myself during a stressful situation. I could actually feel the anxiety melting away as I scarfed down my massive plate of Chili's french fries. Some people have their alcohol, or their drugs, or whatever. It seems I have food. There, I admitted it. Hi, my name is Naomi and I'm a food addict. (Y'all are supposed to say, "Hi Naomi!" and welcome me to the meeting or something now.)

I miss being able to get up in the morning and drive to the beach for a swim in the ocean. That was a better stress reliever than a plate of french fries. Much better.