The last update on my fitness journey was that I had lost 2 lbs. the previous week. This last Saturday, I had gained back 4/10 of a lb. Grrrr.
The Good. While the scale didn’t cooperate, I did move more and made a conscious effort to eat better. While I did not walk every day, I walked most days. Finding time to walk sometimes required creativity. One day, I went to my chiropractor over lunch, which is in a town about 10 miles from my work. In order to make time for my appointment, and also have time to eat and walk, I walked near her office. It was a nice change in scenery.
On another day, I found a lovely hiking path in a park in the town 10 miles in the other direction from work. I’d been to the park with my kids many times before, but I had no idea there was a paved trail going into the woods! The things you discover when you force yourself to change things up.
While I haven’t been meeting the 28 day challenge every single day, I have been doing it more than 1/2 the time. The 28 day challenge is 10 minutes of exercises, mostly focusing on your core. Ten minutes probably doesn’t seem like much, but it seriously seems like the longest 10 minutes ever! With my back injury, these are great exercises for me because I could use increased strength in my core. Even if I didn’t lose weight last week, I can tell the exercises are making me stronger.
The Bad. We had something major and unexpected happen at work last week. That, along with the unusual heat, has been my excuse for not walking every day. I do have a treadmill . . . it’s just a matter of getting it out of storage.
The Ugly. Vanilla ice cream . . . it’s so delicious, so creamy and vanilla-ey. But, I’m afraid it’s a very bad habit. Okay . . . it’s not ugly. It’s beautiful goodness and wonderfulness! But, it’s full of calories and fat, and I treat myself to it almost every night. Not a lot, usually, but enough that I’m afraid I’m going to have to do without it for a while.
Well, vanilla ice cream . . . it’s been real. It’s been fun. Actually, it’s been real fun, but we’re going to have to take a break . . . It’s not you. It’s me.