I had a doctors appointment earlier this week. I came face to face with my nemesis. I had to step on the scale. What an evil device. I didn't like what it had to say, though I wasn't surprised. Okay, maybe I was a little surprised, but I knew I had gained weight.
I've always been a curvy girl. Sometimes those curves have been less pronounced, sometimes more so. I had been reigning those curves in, but then...life. There are reasons I wasn't eating, drinking or exercising as I should be. However, even valid reasons can turn into excuses if you're not careful. And this had definitely crossed over into that territory.
So, today I got on the treadmill. I walked. I ran. I walked. I ran. You get the idea. I think it's time for me to look for another 5K to sign up for. I've done two of them in the past nine months. I'd never done any before that. I didn't set any land-speed records, but I signed up, showed up and savored success (success=finishing). The heat and humidity prevent me from attempting one this time of the year, not that I'm prepared to do one right now anyway. I think I'll look for one to participate in this fall. That will give me something to train for, something to keep me going.
Exercise and water consumption are also expectations that Nash has of me, though in the past he's been known to be too lenient. I think that's because these are things he also struggles with. But, I find that when he's consistent in his expectations it gives me the impetus to follow through. He's like an accountability partner, but one with more power, one who wields a paddle.
So, today I got on the treadmill for two reasons. I lost the showdown with the evil scale and I want to be better prepared for a rematch. And I don't want to let Nash down. He's always so proud of me when I follow through and that makes me feel good. Oh, and this weekend I'd like a fun spanking rather than a punishment, unlike the past two weekends.