It’s a pretty sad state of affairs when sore muscles comes from sitting too long instead of coming from exercise.

To say that I’ve been busy and stressed would be an understatement. The weight gain hasn’t even been a consequential event for me. I just haven’t had time to worry about it. I’ve been doing things like going out of town and writing papers and working on editing projects for 12 straight hours and trying to prepare for exams and figuring out ways to fit in homework for the “fun” (non-credit) class that I added to my already hectic semester. And politics? I just don’t know that I’m going to make it through the next month without having a heart attack.

Food has been a big problem. It’s increasingly obvious to me that I use it inappropriately during stressful times. It’s pretty bad, to me, to wake up morning after morning with heartburn from hamburgers, nachos, pizza, etc., but I’m seemingly unable to stop myself from eating things (and quantities) that I KNOW I shouldn’t. I think I ate ice cream every single day for a solid week. Nice, huh? The only victory I had in this area was the decision to throw away the (half) chocolate cake that J brought home from his birthday celebration at work. I’d be lying if I denied wanting to get it back out of the trash the next day, but the rational part of my brain kicked in and I quickly realized how effin’ stupidly I was thinking. (It was in a plastic container so it’s not QUITE as gross as it sounds.)

I met with my trainer twice last week and also attended the stability ball class, so I worked in 3 hours of exercise. I don’t think that I’ve exercised that little during a week at all this year. I told myself that I couldn’t justify any extra time spent exercising, and maybe I couldn’t. I’m not going to look back on it now and judge my decisions or beat myself up over it. I made it to the gym today, though, and feel better. I jogged, spent 20 minutes on the stairmaster and 10 on the elliptical. I did various types of crunches. I stretched. I spent well over an hour doing the different things, catching up on podcasts and spending time focusing on getting my motivation back. I love working out with my trainer, but I had quickly forgotten how much I love working out alone, too. I can just be. No pressure to perform or even to think. It was very relaxing.

Anyway. The bulk of the stress is over. I really have no excuse for eating everything in sight but I’m going to chalk it up to another bump in the road. Life is definitely not perfect and I’m most certainly not perfect. I’ll start losing again. (eventually)