One week down of the 50 Day Challenge and I think I may officially be burnt out.
I did lose 4 pounds last week. That’s good, right? I stepped on the scale ten times Saturday to be certain because my scale is the only thing more indecisive than me on the whole planet. It verified my 4 pound loss every time. Yesterday? It said I gained three back. Yeah, whatever.
I bought another Bob Harper Inside Out Method dvd last night. Cardio, to be exact. I’ve fallen in love with the long-form workouts on both Yoga and Strength and I was hoping this one would be just as good. Yeah, uh… the first fifteen minutes is deadlifts and swings. I quit halfway through them. My back was killing me. I woke up this morning and could barely walk because my back was so sore.
I decided to do the short-form butt and balance workout tonight. It’s 25 minutes. I thought I could handle it. Guess what the second move is? Deadlifts. Fuck you, Bob.
I then moved on to Zumba 20-Minute Express to tag on to the 10 minutes I endured before I realized Bob was out to get me. I can’t look at Beto. I can’t. I feel like he wants to touch me inappropriately. So I did 5 minutes of that for a whole 15 minutes tonight. Better than nothing, right?
I had a mini-binge when I got home from work tonight. Today is the 2nd anniversary of the worst day of my life, and it starts the Holy Week of Sadness and Memories (her birthday is Thursday.)
It seemed like last year was much less emotional. I don’t know what it is about this year, but I feel like it’s been building up for weeks. I cry almost every time I get in the car. My mom decided to take the highway last night and I had a full-blown panic attack and started crying whenever she got closer than four-one-thousands to the car in front of us. I mean, seriously. What is up with that? It’s ridiculous and silly and I hate feeling like this. I’m still waiting for someone to let us all in on this epic practical joke she’s playing.
On top of all of that, I’m so conflicted and sad and disappointed in people regarding Osama’s death. It is never okay to celebrate someone’s death. Ever. Especially as a Christian. Apparently, “Love your enemy” is just something youth pastors tell their youth group kids when they’re getting picked on in school. It doesn’t apply to a real enemy. Ugh.
So. There’s all that. I’m an emotional mess, but at least I’ve worked out (or at least tried really hard to) every day for a week, right? Do I have an eating disorder yet? Oh my god.
I leave you with the following: