Friday was brought to you from the glow of Netflix, partnered with a corning ware dish of oh-so-comforting leftover pasta. The amuse bouche may have been a row (or three) of digestive cookies. Yep. An intervention is required.
Want the party line of excuses? Anxiety over a social event at my house. Mild case of the blues. Exhaustion. A sense of overwhelming blergh to do with my little Beachbody biz. The upcoming holiday season. It was cold out. Everything.
So, I started drinking double espressos in the mornings to perk myself up. When you start visiting a coffee shop daily, your gaze lingers a little longer on the sweets. One day, I bought a Nanaimo bar. I don’t even LIKE Nanaimo bars. But this one…was chilled, and sweet and crazy good. So then I had another the next day. Then I went to a Christmas lunch buffet and ate cheesecake and a lemon square.
Sugar is an evil drug. You just crave more.
The not working out part is sheer laziness.
Why is it that one day missed, and suddenly you’re on that slippery slope? Like, if you’re not moving forward, you’re sliding backwards. Backsliding. Teenage Pentecostal flashback. Damn.
So, confessions out there once again.
I have this wonderful group of ladies on Facebook I’m working with for a healthy, happy Christmas season. The goals are to eat clean, sweat daily and hit January 1st feeling GREAT. And yet, November was such a roller coaster (one great week followed by one sloth week, and repeat) and December has been rocky so far. And let’s be honest here: I’m trying to encourage them and bam, I’m barely keeping my own head above water…
I need a super awesome do-over! (But why why why I am having do-overs every week? Is this how an addict feels? Starting over every single week, day, hour?)
Tomorrow is a new day. Monday! Bring it on.