Nine hundred and seventy six

There’s good news, and there’s bad news.

The good news is I seem to be down a couple of pounds this week, to a new low, though I’ll have to wait till I weigh in on Monday to see if it’s real, if it sticks around.

The bad news is I haven’t done much to earn such a loss this week. Haven’t been tracking my food, haven’t been getting planned exercise.

The good news is I’ve been getting plenty of incidental exercise. Three to four hours of walking Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, plus plenty of standing and other activity Thursday and Friday.

The bad news is I’ve had the opportunity for all this exercise because the public broadcaster I work for has locked out the union I’m in. Me and 5,499 other journalists and technicians, all locked out across Canada. Turns out you can burn around 976 calories in three hours of walking the picket line.

I am trying hard not to freak out. And some days, that’s ok. Taco is playing many many gigs this month, and will make rather a lot of money. I’m doing some freelancing, plus there’s my strike pay, plus a bit of an inheritance that’s coming my way this month, plus some money one of our friends borrowed earlier this summer and is able to pay back in a couple of weeks. Financially, we’ll be fine, so long as the lock out doesn’t go much beyond, say, mid-October. Either way, I’m going to look at the picket duty as the crappy part-time job I have to do while I launch my freelance career. That way, when the lock out ends, I can choose. Will I go back to work, or will I simply freelance? If I can build enough of a career, with enough opportunities for income, I might just be picking door number two.

But it’s not perfect, that’s for sure. One of the ways in which it’s least perfect is that suddenly, I have no routine. And oh god, me without a routine? Not a good scene, man. I haven’t made it to yoga once this week. I haven’t been getting enough water in the course of a day. I haven’t been logging my food, or taking time for myself, making time to exercise.

This can’t continue, obviously. It makes me feel very squirrelly, and when the scale insists on going down every couple of days, well, that doesn’t help, strangely. I feel like I’m getting away with something I’ve no business getting away with. And beyond that, I start to get a little depressed when I don’t exercise. I kind of thought I learned this from being on vacation, but the sad truth is that being locked out by one’s employer can really throw a spanner in the works.

I will have to be extra vigilant. Our renovations have progressed to the point that we have new floors now, and the TV is hooked up again, and it will be a pleasure to do pilates and yoga now. So tomorrow, one or both. And a walk. My picket duty tomorrow will amount to a one-hour meeting, and maybe a bit of committee work out of it, but I should be able to set aside some time for myself, as well. Taco is in France right now, so I only need to worry about myself.

Somehow, though, when he’s home, I’m better at making time to take care of myself. It’s like I need to know I’m being observed in order to actually get cracking and look out for myself. That is ridiculous, isn’t it? Yes, yes, it is.

So, ok, tomorrow, exercise. Food I’m actually doing pretty well at. Eating whatever vegetables are on my plate first, and staying away from picket line doughnuts, except for the gourmet ones that were dropped off to us earlier this week. I think the one I had was made with whole wheat flour, so I’m not sweating it, you know? But today Tombag took me out for lunch, and I ordered veggies on the side of my roast beef sandwich instead of fries, and I didn’t even feel sad about that. I think that’s a really good thing. Also, it has come to my attention that I am horrible deficient in vitamin B, and when I checked out http://www.whfoods.com it told me I should eat more meat. So, roast beef for lunch today, and turkey burgers barbecued for supper tonight. I also bought an organic t-bone steak at the farmers’ market this morning, and I think that’ll be tomorrow night’s supper.

Bit by bit, I will turn this ship around. At least I’m still losing, but ultimately, that’s meaningless if I’m not doing it healthily. And picket duty may burn calories, but it’s not exercise. Must remember that.

Oh yeah, and solidarity forever.