Well, I made it. One week and I worked out every day for at least thirty minutes. And I gained a pound. I know muscles weigh more than fat, but seriously? Unfair.
This week, in addition to working out every day, my mini-goal is to get a handle on my diet. I have been gluten intolerant for around 15 years, and recently discovered that I could eat gluten again without getting sick. And I have been. Like a gluten addict. If it's full of refined sugars and lots of fat, all the better--bring it on! Well, this has got to stop.
I'm going to have to go back to Weight Watchers I'm afraid and literally write down every morsel of food that goes in my mouth. I hate that, but that's the price I have to pay for my food addiction. It doesn't help either that I'm an emotional eater, and right now, am in so much inner turmoil over the writer's conference, the future of my book, the situation with John's head, and general grumpy stay-at-home-mom-needs-to-get-out-more-ness, that I find myself eating just to stop the constant thinking.
I'm 190 pages into my (I hope) final run through/edit of my novel. Only 130 more to go... I love the finished product. It's such a different book now from the first draft in November 2005. I can't believe I've been working on it that long. Hopefully, something will come of it.