I understand the whole building muscle crap and that your body freaks out when you change up an exercise routine and conserves fuel. But it doesn't make me any less bummed out.
I just need to remember that numbers on the scales are actually the least accurate measure of your fitness. There are all kinds of stick-thin girls out there who have insanely high body fat percentages.
I'm going hard-core this week though. I'm going to move faster, jump higher, lift heavier weights and kick my own ass. If I'm hungry, I'll eat a vegetable. If I have to choose between a harder exercise or an easy one, I'll choose harder. If I have the option to run or walk, I'll run. This Saturday, I want to see results.
My Teeny-Tiny Woo Hoo!
Today, I ran the farthest I've ever run my entire life without stopping. (I'm not counting my brief stint of distance running in 7th grade track.) Sadly, the farthest I've ever run is a little over a half-mile. What can I say? Previously, I thought the only reason to run was if someone was chasing you. My running was insanely slow, but I still feel pretty good about pushing myself.
But, my inner dialogue was hysterical - here's what I was thinking:
- "Longer stride"
- "Keep going, lazy butt."
- "You're not literally going to die so keep moving."
- "For real, this isn't going to kill you."
- "You thought you were going to die 3 minutes ago and you lived so keep going."
- "Don't let that slow girl pass you."
- "Get your butt in gear so you're not last.
Oh - and it actually felt normal to get out of bed at 4:30 a.m. today. Weird, huh?