Your break is over

Where have I been? Well, that’s an excellent question. I’ve been right here, mostly, except for the week I was away. And the two weeks I spent doing a slightly different, somewhat more demanding job. Other than that, though, I’ve been right here, kickboxing and doing yoga (because I love that opposite-ends-of-the-spectrum thing) and trying to figure out why I’m eating sugar EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.

The main reason is that it tastes good. Which is too bad. There was a brief shining moment there during which I craved it, but when I actually ate it, it didn’t taste that good to me. I was going to say that moment has passed, but maybe that’s not entirely true. It depends on the sugar in question. Really good chocolate still turns me on. But last night, a dozen M&Ms tasted kind of acidic. Last week, in a hotel room in Toronto, a Caramilk bar tasted unremarkable enough that I ate only half and saved the rest for another day.

Which, I would just like to say, is completely unheard of till now.

So I guess that’s a kind of progress. I didn’t need, last week, to gulp the whole bar down lest someone snatch it away from me. Same with the Ms last night. I ate a few, decided not to go back for more, moved on with my life. It would be nice to be able to stop trying the highly refined sugar, time after time, only to discover that yep, it still doesn’t thrill me the way it used to. But all things in moderation, I guess, including change.

And boy howdy, there’s plenty of that to be had lately. Things are bubbling at work. There is change, there will be more change, no one can say for sure what effect it will have. I don’t love that situation, but I’m working on just worrying about the stuff I can actually effect, so, and this one I can’t. So I don’t fret about it, but it is background noise, to be sure. And Professor Taco and I are making it official…he’s moving in for real. Which is super-exciting, we’re both totally tickled, but it’s still change, and change is always stressful, even if it’s the very best kind of change you can imagine.

And then there are the renovations we’re about to undertake. They at times seem so massive to me I kind of can’t believe I’m willingly going ahead. Because it’s going to mean a lot of work and a lot of mess and a lot of money and a lot of uncertainty. But then, when it’s all done: A beautiful new kitchen. Lovely new floors. A cosy sitting room at the back of the house. Main floor laundry. A music room for the professor, and a nice new bedroom for us. And a baby grand piano.

It’s kind of like the renovations I’m working on with myself. The changes and fixes I’m making to my way of thinking. The tinkering I’m doing with my body. Taking everything apart while trusting that when it’s all put back together, it’ll be better than ever. The way I want it. Fully functional, extremely beautiful.

Sure is a lot of mess and trouble in the doing, though. And I think my contractor is kind of lazy. I did not work out yesterday and meant to get up this morning for an hour’s worth of yoga but…the bed was warm and Taco was snuggly and somehow, three and a half hours passed from the time the alarm went off to the time I managed to pull myself away. Bad contractor. You will never get this project done on time at the rate you’re going!

I can make it up tonight, and work overtime on the weekend. Yoga or pilates tonight. And kickboxing tomorrow night. And maybe tear down a few walls on the weekend. That oughta be a good workout. For me, and the house.

Incidentally speaking

For the first couple months of this body project, I rode the elevator. Up three floors every day at work. Though I’d take the stairs going down.

I’d make time in my day to work out, almost every day, at home or at the gym. But I’d ride the elevator instead of taking advantage of the opportunity for a little incidental exercise.

About a month ago, I started making myself take the stairs. Every day, several times a day, up or down, I take the stairs. It adds exactly no time to my day, and though I’d love to report that I notice a huge difference, I don’t.

Well, not in my body, anyhow. But it’s not all about the body, as it turns out. You’d be forgiven for thinking it is, of course. But no, there’s a mind there, too, however reluctantly it behaves sometimes, it’s still a vital piece of the puzzle.

I really noticed this in Winnipeg two weeks ago. I thought back to last year and how diligently I went to the gym each morning for Aquafit classes, and yet how one of the main motivators was that I could take the bus and end up a block away from work, instead of actually having to walk to work.

Worse than that, I remember the days my roommate would drive us to the office and I would have more than a moment of laziness, where I would consider asking her to drop me off at the side door before she went to park the car in the lot…less than a block away.

I think about that person now, that person who would much rather have mortified herself with that kind of laziness (though, to be fair to myself, I never actually did ask her to drop me off. I do have some dignity, it turns out), than put one foot in front of the other and maybe do herself some good.

I’m not that person anymore, somehow. I don’t know how. But I know for certain that I am prone to that person’s bad habits. Take my eating lately…please. It has been out of whack for three weeks now. The first week was kind of ok, because I worked out every day and at the end of the week, saw my lowest number in recent memory on the scale. The next week was pretty bad. Restaurant eating at least once a day, and zero workouts. It was “okay” because we were on vacation. But, of course, I sprained my ankle and had a cold that just kept on giving and that put paid to me hitting the gym hard when we got back from Winnipeg. I should have stopped eating like I was on vacation the minute I no longer was (and also, can I say, who in their right mind goes to Winnipeg in March on vacation? And works while there? Obviously I have some trouble treating myself right, but that’s another entry all together…). But I didn’t stop. I kept it up all week. And you know what? I can feel the difference.

The same way I could in the beginning when it was all simple revelations over here at Mighty Mighty all the time. Eat less, move more, you will lose weight, I crowed. Hey, dude: the same applies in reverse. Eat more, move not at all, and guess what? You’ll gain.

I haven’t officially weighed myself this week, because I just don’t need to to know that I’m headed in the wrong direction at the moment. I can feel myself softer, flabbier, just bigger. Probably not by a lot, but by enough.

That’s all it is. It’s enough. Time to get past it.