I'm really trying to stop eating when I feel full. This is a hard thing for me - I was raised by the cheapest man alive, and you don't waste food! We went to D'Bronx last night (a New York style deli in our old neighborhood in midtown) and I got a sub. After eating not quite half, I was feeling very full. Normally, I'd push on through and eat it anyway, but I stopped myself and threw the rest away. Then we took the kids to Murray's and I only got one scoop - not three. Portion control is what I'm working on right now. Not just with sweets, with all food. I tend to ignore those signals that say 'I'm full'. I'm trying to listen more.
I've got the ok to start working out again. Within reason, and I have to listen to my body. Or, as the Doc said "if it hurts, don't do it!" So I'm contemplating swinging light today. I'm still having twinges of pain - and actually hurt quite a bit last night - but I'm anxious to get going. I've been doing a lot of walking, but I'm itching to swing. My weight is pretty good - 135.5 - and if I can start swinging again and push on through with the calorie and portion control, I know I can get those 5 pounds off. And if I can get below 130, well, that's be just peachy.
This is me in 2003, I weighed 128 here. This was a great weight for me, 125 would be better, but I would be content to weigh this again -and to fit into that cute Betsey Johnson dress again!
Addie's potty training hit a small snag last night - she peed in Murray's. Thank god they know us really well, we cleaned it up quickly, but oh god, it was mortifying. Now I know why the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy tells you to always bring a towel. You never know when it might come in handy.
"A towel, it says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitch hiker can have. Partly it has great practical
value - you can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapours; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a mini raft down the slow heavy river Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or to avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (a mindboggingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can't see it, it can't see you - daft as a bush, but very ravenous); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.
More importantly, a towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: non-hitch hiker) discovers that a hitch hiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, face flannel, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitch hiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitch hiker might accidentally have "lost". What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is is clearly a man to be reckoned with."
Getting back Ruck - Not a bad one, despite still having pant fit problems. Plus new boots. Legs felt strong, and I could feel my back ( not spine) from yesterday's 315 deadli...