Feed a Cold, Starve a Fever... or in my case:

Feed a Cold, Feed a Fever.

This past week has been nothing short of a train wreck. Getting sick messed with everything from my inner go-getter to my will power to not eat crap.

First off, this was my first week back from running my first ever 10K.. so I actually had no plans to run for at least 4 days to let my body recuperate. But for some reason, knowing that my body couldn't run even if I wanted to... well, it was a little depressing. For some reason it left me feeling like a failure.... and what always happens when I feel like that?

I EAT. Lord, did I eat. I ate crap that hasn't been in my body in well over a year. Not only did I eat it, I loved it. I enjoyed every second of eating it.

Friday night I had a dream. I was looking in the mirror trying to get on my new pair of jeans, only I was HUGE. I stepped on a scale and someone said 'WOW, you don't LOOK that big'. When I woke up I felt sick. Seeing myself lose control like that made me really nervous. I know I'm sick, and I know that its ok to fall off the wagon... but this time it gave me an anxiety attack. This is the longest period of time I have gone not caring what I ate... or how much I weighed... and it scared me.

Today's weigh in was 176.6. A gain of 1.6 lbs. Not as bad as it could have been... but I'm still disappointed. Not in gaining the weight, but in my attitude all week long. Being sick I should have cared more about what I put into my body... instead I filled it with crap.

I am back on track. Yesterday I had a perfect food day. This morning I hopped on the treadmill for 30 minutes. Nothing strenuous... I still have a small cough... but just a brisk walk that got the blood flowing.

Hubby is out of town this week and I have made a little personal challenge for myself. I want to be at 174 when he gets home on Friday. I still have a half marathon to train for... I'm not done yet!