Rationally, I know that extra weight I gained was probably a bunch of water and junk that was in my body. I know this, yet to look at those extra numbers killed me. Honestly, I felt as if I was going to gain that much weight over the course of 5 days, what was the point of working so hard to get to my goal. At the time of my return, my mini goal (to lose 7 pounds by my anniversary) had been raised to 10. It really makes me feel like I suck at life (and weight loss).
After a few hours thinking that way, I decided that I had to succeed. What's the point of trying so hard if I'm just going to give up when the going gets tough. I brushed myself off and made a pact with myself that I was going to beat those 3.6 pounds. Guess what. . .
Well, as of this morning, I've lost 1.4 pounds. Kind of ridiculous isn't it? It would be really really nice if it was all gone by the time WI comes around on Saturday (or at least close). Now that I'm done with this downward spiral of self loathing, I realize that it wasn't worth it. How much time was wasted over absolutely nothing?
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