Ready for Monday

I've had better weekends.

I was looking forward to spending a lot of couch time with Angie, enjoying the feeling of having no obligations, and just being content. It didn't work out that way.

Let me back up. We had pizza on Friday night, and this of course affected my weigh-in on Saturday. You may have noticed I gained 2 lbs. this week- the same 2 lbs. I lost last week. When my alarm went off at 5:00 a.m. on Saturday morning, the last thing I wanted to do was get up and run. I almost didn't. However, my friends were expecting me to be there, so I went. I got 10 miles in. I was feeling so sluggish and exhausted that I just couldn't muster another 4 miles in order to log the 14 miles I wanted to do. But, 10 is a lot better than nothing.

After our run, we went to Cracker Barrel for breakfast. I must have been one of the only Midwesterners who had never visited this lovely establishment, but I was finally indoctrinated. They were having a breakfast special which included a brownie with your eggs and bacon. WTF? Is no meal safe from chocolate anymore? I opted for the buttermilk pancakes with turkey sausage and scrambled eggs. I figured a 10 mile run earned me some light, fluffy, pancakey goodness with real maple syrup. Cracker Barrel was really the high point of the weekend. Hmmmm....

After watching a lovely horror flick called Midnight Meat Train (you won't want to eat beef again for a long, long time) with Angie, she went out, and I was left to my own devices for the afternoon. For some reason, I was feeling incredibly sorry for myself and lonely. I called a lot of people to talk, but no one was around. Even my 97 year old grandmother was too busy playing bingo at her nursing home to chat with her seratonin-depleted granddaughter. When an emotional eater gets lonely, you'd better lock up the refrigerator. I was on a war path. You can imagine what happened next.

That was Saturday. On Sunday, Angie was sick and spent most of the day in bed. This was obviously out of her control, but I was still bummed out. More loneliness, more eating. The weekend breezed by, and I have nothing to show for it except for a distended abdomen and a bad attitude.

Now I'm feeling tired, bloated, foggy, and more down than ever. My heart hurts- and I'm hoping it's because of the depressed mood and not hardening arteries. When will I finally learn that food will NOT reverse any negative emotions I'm having? I hope it's soon, because these jeans are feeling awfully tight.

I'm still not giving up. As long as you're reading blog posts from me, that means I'm still trying. When a weight-loss blogger stops blogging, then you really have a problem. Hey- I still managed to run 10 miles on a stomach full of greasy cheese and pepperoni (gross), and although my size 12s are tight as a mo-fo, they're not what I'd call "muffin top tight." Things could be worse.

I'm still here.