Yesterday went great. I got all my exercises in, I stayed within my calorie budget, I walked a little over 5.5 Miles, and generally I feel… well, I actually feel pretty tired and a little sore. I also feel pretty good, but definitely sore and tired. It’s been a while, you know?

I did make one modification to my regiment, though. This week, I’m only doing two sets of ten reps with the dumbbells. After yesterday, when I decided to cancel the third set because everything was aching, it’s clear that I need to ease back into things. Not to the degree that I need to go back to the five pound weights, mind, but enough that I don’t want to accidentally injure myself. That would be bad.

So. What does this have to do with “boredom”? Nothing. Nothing at all. No, the title of this post comes from a realization I had a few minutes before I was writing. I was contemplating digging into my stash of dried fruit (my emergency “I need to eat something” stash), and I asked myself why I was considering that. I wasn’t actually hungry, after all.

No. It turns out that I wanted to eat because I was feeling bored. Which is a ridiculous thing, once I realized it. I just wanted something to do, and immediately thought of food. And even now, having realized it, part of me is still wanting to eat something. Not because I’m hungry. Not because I really want the taste of something. Just because it’s something to do.

I knew I ate when stressed. I never thought I’d eat because of boredom. Strange.


Thoughts On The Day Off

It’s Wednesday, which means I get my mid-week break from the dumbbell workout I’ve been doing. In an ideal world I would have still gotten up and gone walked my. After all, doing some cardio exercises n the down time is still a good idea. But I didn’t.

Why? Partly because I’ve still got a half-healed broken toe, which ached a little after the 5.12 miles I walked yesterday running errands. Partly because 3 am is early, and I didn’t want to get out of bed. And partly because of this nonsense:

That is my car (envy me my sweet ride) dusted with snow. I was walking around without a coat yesterday, and today there’s snow. Not a lot, honestly, but that’s not the point.

In other news, I noticed an interesting thing for the future of my work with the dumbbells. The set in my clubhouse goes escalates the pounds as follows: 1, 2, 5, 10, 15, 20, 30, 40, and then a whopping one 50 pound dumbbells. So, yeah. That escalated rapidly. I mean, don’t get me wrong: I look forward to the day I’m doing my routine with the 40 pound weights. But that’s going to take some doing.

Mixed Results

The scale showed me at 336 pounds when I got on it yesterday. It wasn’t what I wanted to see, not by a long shot, but it wasn’t a surprise. I’ve been eating really badly for several weeksmonths now, so gaining weight didn’t really shock me. But it did confuse me.

See, I don’t remember if I mentioned it or not, but I recently bought some new pants in a larger waist size. Not too much larger thankfully, but larger. I’d been down by that thing where you stuff yourself into cloths that are a little snug, because you’re telling yourself that you really will lose the weight but really you’re just punishing yourself. That thing. Well, while I was doing it, I was also having to let my belt out.

Yesterday, the same day I discovered I’d gained weight again, I also realized that I was tightening my belt down to keep my pants from dropping. Comfortably tightening my belt.

That pretty well sums it up. Maybe all of the crunches and leg lifts are paying off? I… don’t know. And I don’t know quite how to react. ‘M annoyed that I gained weight and happy that my pants are getting loose and…

Yeah. Thank you, Mr. Confused Emoji.

Anyway, I think the take-away here is that I need to a) keep up the exercises and b) eat better. That seems like the best possible plan, doesn’t it?

A Few Vacation Thoughts

I was on vacation last week, and my best intentions of writing each day fell by the wayside pretty quickly. As did my intentions of meeting my walking and exercise goals, and of staying within my calorie budget, and a number of other things. On the other hand, I’m nice and relaxed now.

Better yet, I’ve got my menu planned out and we’ve been eating on it! We’re doing an elimination diet in my household, and my task was to come up with meals that didn’t feel punitive while doing so. I like to think I’ve largely succeeded. We’ve had beef stew, and pan-fried chicken with steamed broccoli, and tacos, and shrimp scampi, all of which was amazing.

We’ve also had something called Moroccan chicken which, while interesting and flavorful, went on the “not again” list. It was one of those meals that I’m glad I tried, but not so glad that I want it again.

In the process, I’ve discovered a few really strange things about food. Like how there’s sugar in everything. Minute Rice (not that I’d voluntarily eat that tasteless slop anyway) has added sugar. Chicken broth had added sugar. Chicken broth! Why? I’ve made chicken broth! It’s chicken bones (or a whole chicken), and water, and a whole onion, and a couple of stalks of celery! I’ve never looked at the results and said “needs sugar”!

I’m sorry. I think I’m ranting. Here’s the Sugar Association’s explanation (tl;dr they say it’s used to help foods brown when cooked, help them taste better, and to serve as a preservative). I find that a bit… questionable, but all right. Whatever. I’ll still be trying to make more of my own stuff from scratch anyway.

Sugar in my chicken broth indeed. Pah.

Spraying… toxins?

Most of the comments I get on my blog are spam.  Spambots mostly, attempting to sell me SEO services or more hits on my Facebook page or the like.  If you’ve ever read through the comments section of anything on the internet, you’ve seen the kind of ads.  Mostly, I delete them.  But then, I get this:

Jag förstår att man måste känna sig ren och fräsch när man sprutar nervgift i sin kropp!

That’s… Finnish, maybe?  No, according to Google Translate, it’s Swedish.  I’ve gotten Swedish spam (which sounds like a Muppet/Monty Python crossover sketch)!  Google Translate renders it as “I understand that you have to feel clean and fresh when spraying nerve toxin in his body!”

Uhm.  Yeah.  I… don’t get it.  But it fascinated me enough that I wanted to share.

Moving on to more significant things, I’m pretty much expecting to maintain my weight again this week.  You know, what with having been sick and all.  But I’m feeling better enough that Monday I should be back on my exercise and walking program, and I’m looking forward to it!

I Don’t Get My Metabolism

Yesterday, I crashed.  Hard.  The kind of crash where you’re struggling to maintain consciousness at two in the afternoon, and you’re not bothering to fight the urge to eat carbs because some sleepy part of your brain is saying “I need sugar to maintain consciousness!”  The kind of crash where, by 6 pm, your lovely and amazing wife looks at you and tells you to just go to bed already.  That kind of crash.

I wasn’t wildly successful yesterday, is what I’m trying to say.  Because I was so tired, for no reason I can work out, that I just collapsed.

So, this morning, I made myself get on the scales.  Not an official weigh-in, but I wanted to see what sort of damage I’d done.  Not to flagellate myself, mind.  But for the sake of accountability.  And, hopefully, to get myself motivated.  And you know what I saw?

The scales said I weighed 306.8 pounds.  Down a full pound from Saturday.

I don’t even understand what happened.