I took a day “off.” I took a day to just allow whatever the fam was eating.
It didn’t go well.
Father’s Day means bacon and Krispy Kreme and pizza. And by the next day I’d put on 4 pounds. 4 pounds that haven’t wanted to shake off since. Yes I know it has only been 2 days, but I only really splurged for less than 12 hours so why should it stick so much?
Thus the sand dune beckons.
The sand dune that I keep trying to mount. The sand dune that doesn’t allow a day off. The sand dune that is hard to find a toehold and even harder to climb.
I’m more determined than ever. Splurge days just don’t hold the same appeal. I was able to celebrate both kids’ birthdays last week without falling off the wagon. I even factored into my food diary a single cookie and a single brownie (the cookie was Bubs’ sweet and the brownie was Nut’s sweet).
Hubs thinks I should follow up with a medical professional. The kids have their checkups coming up, and endocrinologists require referrals from primary care physicians. So while I’m there checking out I’ll make my own appointment.
I’m fully prepared for the lecture I’ll get. Get more cardio. Follow a Mediterranean diet. Reduce carbs. Do some weight lifting. Get good sleep. Drink water.
Yes, doc. But what happens when you check all those boxes every single day and you have nothing to show for it?
What happens when you check all those boxes every single day and you have nothing to show for it?
For so many women to have the same experiences as me, I’m honestly stunned we don’t have more medical research into solving this problem. I daydream that I’ll show up at the endocrinologist and she’ll have some magical pill that will make my body stop fighting itself.
It is the same kind of daydreams that I allow myself to have every time I try to climb the sand dune.