The good news is that my friend transferred out of the hospital to a nursing center for rehab/physical therapy and per my impulsive vow, I don't have to run every day. I'm proud to say that I managed to keep up with the daily running for the most part and on the days when I missed a mile (working late, other exercise, etc.), I made it up the next day so that I maintained an average of at least a mile a day. On some days, I would actually run an extra mile on my own volition.
Sigh. I can't fathom that right now. I've pretty much discovered that running isn't my calling. Believe me, I want to love running--it's the cheapest exercise out there and one can do it pretty much anywhere--and I'd fantasize that I was a gazelle running the plains. But the reality is I'm more like Clydesdale trying to gallop with cinderblocks tied to my hooves. Plus I never got the breathing thing down--from the get go, I'm gasping with my mouth hanging open trying to catch any available oxygen floating in my direction.
The bad news is (despite how horrible at running as I was), that this was probably the only thing keeping my weight from ballooning completely out of control. My eating habits have not been good since my friend went into the hospital over 3 months ago. Last night I cooked half a box of spaghetti and pretty much ate it all by myself. The topper was the two snack bags of chips and handful of Halloween candy I ate right before bed.
Of course, my mind goes to how much weight I could have lost if I actually had controlled my eating while doing the running thing. Argh. I really wish I could get back on track with WW but with the holidays coming, I really don't feel like it. My motivation is sorely lacking.
Okay. Enough talk. Today I start with at least one healthy habit--drinking at least 6 glasses of water a day.
Baby steps.
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