By the title of this post, you may be expecting some winey monologue complaining about how sad and depressing it is living all alone. Or maybe something about not being able to share chores like doing dishes, or something like that. But that's not what you'll find here.
My current problem began a week and a half ago. In the world of Johanna...what happened a week and a half ago? I got a second degree sunburn which aesthetically looks quite pleasing in the shape of a comma on the back of both shoulders.
Now, a week and a half later, the burn is healing. And it itches like crazy.
So of course, because of the location, I have to dislocate my shoulder in order to reach the itch. And of course, not only can I not scratch the itch, I also can't sufficiently put lotion on said burn either.
I've tried a door. It doesn't work.
So...next time you see me...do me a favor...for the love of God...scratch my back. I'm begging you.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
So, I'm a Nerd
As if most people didn't already know this fact, I'm just going to lay out all of the nerdly facts right now. My current obsession is with The Civil War, and my dream vacation is to go to Gettysburg for the weekend. (Why, yes, we DID stop and drive through the battlefields on our way back from NY, but that's not good enough...I want more)
I'm currently reading a book about Civil War curiosities. And it's so not as good as I was hoping it would be. Granted, I'm only 3 chapters in right now, but I'm not liking the way the book is structured. It gives little snippets of interesting (or curious) facts from The Civil War, but it doesn't really go into much detail about any one character. For example, there's an entire chapter on guys who served from both the Union and the Confederate's who served (gallantly) with one or several limbs missing. We get their name, which side they were on, and what battles they were in. But seriously, there's only so many guys you can read about before everything starts to blur together. This is great, they did great things...TELL ME ABOUT IT! Not just that they had to be strapped to their saddle to be able to ride. Woo. So, Webb Garrison, I applaud your effort, but I give you a C...minus.
But I'm hopeful that my nerdly adventure is going to get better. Because not only do I have the curiosities book to read, I now have (in my possession or ordered) approximately 6 books about The Civil War to read. Maybe more, I'm not actually sure of the total count.
Next up on the reading list (most likely) will be a book by Stephen Ambrose (author of Band of Brothers) about Crazy Horse and Custer. I'm a little excited.
So, if in conversation, or any other type of communication, I begin to spout off about the bloody carnage that happened, or interesting facts about battlers, etc...I'm telling you now, you were warned.
I'm currently reading a book about Civil War curiosities. And it's so not as good as I was hoping it would be. Granted, I'm only 3 chapters in right now, but I'm not liking the way the book is structured. It gives little snippets of interesting (or curious) facts from The Civil War, but it doesn't really go into much detail about any one character. For example, there's an entire chapter on guys who served from both the Union and the Confederate's who served (gallantly) with one or several limbs missing. We get their name, which side they were on, and what battles they were in. But seriously, there's only so many guys you can read about before everything starts to blur together. This is great, they did great things...TELL ME ABOUT IT! Not just that they had to be strapped to their saddle to be able to ride. Woo. So, Webb Garrison, I applaud your effort, but I give you a C...minus.
But I'm hopeful that my nerdly adventure is going to get better. Because not only do I have the curiosities book to read, I now have (in my possession or ordered) approximately 6 books about The Civil War to read. Maybe more, I'm not actually sure of the total count.
Next up on the reading list (most likely) will be a book by Stephen Ambrose (author of Band of Brothers) about Crazy Horse and Custer. I'm a little excited.
So, if in conversation, or any other type of communication, I begin to spout off about the bloody carnage that happened, or interesting facts about battlers, etc...I'm telling you now, you were warned.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
The Official Story of an Unofficial Day
Musselman had been a long time coming for me. I was originally supposed to do this last year as my first half, and instead of making the trip last year, I ended up having surgery instead. But I was really looking forward to the race this year, even though I have been feeling like I was going to throw up at the mere thought for the last month or so. I knew that the training was there...but after DNF'ing at B2B last year, it seemed like this distance was my kryptonite. And apparently, it still is.
Over the past couple of days, I've heard a lot of people refer to the swim as being really rough, with a lot of waves. Call me crazy, but I was kind of having a really good time on the swim. Rolling with the waves, and laughing when I had grass stuck to my face. That is, until about 200 meters to go. I had been feeling fine all weekend, and enjoying the cleaner air that Geneva had to offer, but I started to realize that I was having problems breathing. I've had asthma for a few years (basically my entire life), and haven't had many problems lately. In fact, all of this crazy endurance training has helped a great deal. (If you really want to know how much it's helped, I can share more details, let's just say, it's significant) But every once in a while, it sticks its foot out in front of me, and I land on my face. Cut to the boat dock at Musselman, and I'm there "standing" and clawing at the back of my wetsuit trying to get free, gasping for breathe.
Somehow, someone got me out of my wetsuit, and sat down. And I vaguely remember Alexis and Marta sitting with me. And finally someone stuck an inhaler in my face. The next 30 minutes or so are basically a big blur, but Marta helped me into transition once I could stand, and I'm pretty sure if I were able to see a video (I pray that none actually exist) I would laugh at her attempt to get me out of my wetsuit and into my bike gear. I also must admit that I felt ridiculous getting into my bike gear, because I was sure my day was over. I was already very close to the swim cut off time, and I still was having problems breathing. But there I sat, in my bike gear. Looking ridiculous.
At this point, there were a lot of people around, everyone was asking what I was going to do, and I still couldn't think straight. There's a bit of a claustrophobia thing that happens...and I needed to get away from everyone's questions. So I did the one thing I could to have a second to myself. I went to the port-o-loo. (Anyone else see the irony here?)
And when I came out, I decided I'd take up Ed's offer of turning in my chip and riding the bike course, unofficially. Adele had graciously offered to ride with me. And by that time, we had recruited Kerry to join us too. Iwan gave us a fabulous TDF worthy start...and 58 miles, and 6 hours later, we roll back in. I'm going for a bit of brevity for this, so I won't go into all of the gory details because we finished the ride, and that's the main point. Never mind the fact that my font brake fell off about a minute before the big hill/right turn combo (good timing there!) or that I realized I am REALLY horrible at math. Apparently 23 + 23 doesn't equal 56. Who knew! You know that map with all of the winery's along the bike course... :)
The entire bike ride, I had it in my head that I came to NY to finish 70.3 miles, and by God, that's what I was going to do. I didn't have a doubt that no matter what time we rolled back in, or how long it took, I was going to get those miles in. So at 4pm, Kerry and I headed out on the run course, after MANY warnings about the heat, and staying hydrated, we agreed to only walk along the lake, and do the 5K course multiple times. It was about a mile into the walk that I looked over at Kerry and asked if we were going to admit that we were being idiots yet. The answer, of course, was no. But we finally realized that we really were being kind of stupid. So we told Adele that we'd just make one loop (which turned into about 4.5 miles) and she went back to let everyone know. Mainly, my mother.
We got an incredible welcome back, and my day was finally done.
What I've written so far, is my view of what happened that day. What I've been having a more difficult time writing about is what I have felt about that day. On good race days, I have always been thrilled to be a part of this team. But I think it takes having a bad day, a really bad day, to really see what this team is all about. I have never felt so much love and support than I did that day. From Alexis and Marta (and whoever else I'm missing) who immediately jumped in to take care of me when I couldn't breathe, to Ed telling me that it was ok, and everyone would still be there whenever I finished. From Mary (yes, even at a distance) being the little angel on my shoulder saying that the day was only for training. To Adele, who words cannot express how awesome she was to jump in and go for a 56 mile ride because I needed company. Whose main goal for the day was getting us home safely. She is truly the rock star/den mother for the day, and I will never be able to thank everyone enough. You took care of me, and you took care of my parents. And for that, I will be forever grateful.
Over the past couple of days, I've heard a lot of people refer to the swim as being really rough, with a lot of waves. Call me crazy, but I was kind of having a really good time on the swim. Rolling with the waves, and laughing when I had grass stuck to my face. That is, until about 200 meters to go. I had been feeling fine all weekend, and enjoying the cleaner air that Geneva had to offer, but I started to realize that I was having problems breathing. I've had asthma for a few years (basically my entire life), and haven't had many problems lately. In fact, all of this crazy endurance training has helped a great deal. (If you really want to know how much it's helped, I can share more details, let's just say, it's significant) But every once in a while, it sticks its foot out in front of me, and I land on my face. Cut to the boat dock at Musselman, and I'm there "standing" and clawing at the back of my wetsuit trying to get free, gasping for breathe.
Somehow, someone got me out of my wetsuit, and sat down. And I vaguely remember Alexis and Marta sitting with me. And finally someone stuck an inhaler in my face. The next 30 minutes or so are basically a big blur, but Marta helped me into transition once I could stand, and I'm pretty sure if I were able to see a video (I pray that none actually exist) I would laugh at her attempt to get me out of my wetsuit and into my bike gear. I also must admit that I felt ridiculous getting into my bike gear, because I was sure my day was over. I was already very close to the swim cut off time, and I still was having problems breathing. But there I sat, in my bike gear. Looking ridiculous.
At this point, there were a lot of people around, everyone was asking what I was going to do, and I still couldn't think straight. There's a bit of a claustrophobia thing that happens...and I needed to get away from everyone's questions. So I did the one thing I could to have a second to myself. I went to the port-o-loo. (Anyone else see the irony here?)
And when I came out, I decided I'd take up Ed's offer of turning in my chip and riding the bike course, unofficially. Adele had graciously offered to ride with me. And by that time, we had recruited Kerry to join us too. Iwan gave us a fabulous TDF worthy start...and 58 miles, and 6 hours later, we roll back in. I'm going for a bit of brevity for this, so I won't go into all of the gory details because we finished the ride, and that's the main point. Never mind the fact that my font brake fell off about a minute before the big hill/right turn combo (good timing there!) or that I realized I am REALLY horrible at math. Apparently 23 + 23 doesn't equal 56. Who knew! You know that map with all of the winery's along the bike course... :)
The entire bike ride, I had it in my head that I came to NY to finish 70.3 miles, and by God, that's what I was going to do. I didn't have a doubt that no matter what time we rolled back in, or how long it took, I was going to get those miles in. So at 4pm, Kerry and I headed out on the run course, after MANY warnings about the heat, and staying hydrated, we agreed to only walk along the lake, and do the 5K course multiple times. It was about a mile into the walk that I looked over at Kerry and asked if we were going to admit that we were being idiots yet. The answer, of course, was no. But we finally realized that we really were being kind of stupid. So we told Adele that we'd just make one loop (which turned into about 4.5 miles) and she went back to let everyone know. Mainly, my mother.
We got an incredible welcome back, and my day was finally done.
What I've written so far, is my view of what happened that day. What I've been having a more difficult time writing about is what I have felt about that day. On good race days, I have always been thrilled to be a part of this team. But I think it takes having a bad day, a really bad day, to really see what this team is all about. I have never felt so much love and support than I did that day. From Alexis and Marta (and whoever else I'm missing) who immediately jumped in to take care of me when I couldn't breathe, to Ed telling me that it was ok, and everyone would still be there whenever I finished. From Mary (yes, even at a distance) being the little angel on my shoulder saying that the day was only for training. To Adele, who words cannot express how awesome she was to jump in and go for a 56 mile ride because I needed company. Whose main goal for the day was getting us home safely. She is truly the rock star/den mother for the day, and I will never be able to thank everyone enough. You took care of me, and you took care of my parents. And for that, I will be forever grateful.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Waterlogged: The Story of a Roadtrip with a Well Hydrated Triathlete
As I now sit in Geneva, NY, t minus 14 hours until the start of the Musselman Triathlon, with my nerves going through the roof (if that were really possible)...I think that means this is the perfect time to bring a little humor into the day, and share the story of our trip to this wonderful town.
We started the day off with packing my parents Explorer completely full. But Cedric was able to be packed in, while minimizing the risk of damage. I'll not give you any suspense to this bit, and let you know now that he made it to NY in once piece. Well...technically 2 because I did take off his front wheel. Needless to say, all is well on the bike front.
So...since my dad has already been to a triathlon before, we started off by trying to prepare my mom a bit for what she would experience over the next few days. Her immediate question was "where did you get this desire to do crazy things from?"
I think now would be a good time to share a couple of anecdotes about my Grandma Stein.
Perhaps one of the most famous stories about my Grandma as a young girl involves a large hill, and a pair of roller skates. Oh yes, and train tracks. So...do we really think this story is going anywhere good? Anyway, the story goes that my Grandma was out roller skating one day, like kids did back in the day, and my Grandma thought it would be a good idea to skate down this hill. And of course, at the bottom of this hill was a set of train tracks. So as my Grandma is skating at speeds no human should skate down a hill (without a helmet, or any other type of protective gear) she notices that there are, in fact, train tracks at the bottom of the hill. So of course, by the time she gets there, she has no viable means to stop. So she just jumps over the tracks, and continues skating. No harm, no foul. Just another day in the life.
Of course, this is also the girl, that when provoked by her older brother, chased him around the entire house with a broom threatening death upon his head.
So...does anyone else have any questions about where I got this from?
I didn't think so.
So after I reminded my mom about this...she kind of kept quiet about the whole situation. The mere fact that the crazy gene skipped a generation is not my fault.
So now onto the remainder of the story of our roadtrip...I'll also mention that the past week, I've been drinking approximately 2 gallons of water a day...at least. Which really is probably only about a half gallon more than normal for me. I know, I know, I'm not human. But this also meant that I had to pee about every 15 minutes. Maybe 30 if I could stretch it. And I swear, I informed my parents about this. I told my dad that a well hydrated athlete was worse than a toddler in the middle of potty training. Did he believe me, or perhaps realize the reality of this situation? Of course not!
So it's an hour into the drive, and not only am I need in dire need, so is my mother. HA! It's not all my fault! Then it's another hour into the drive. Uh...dad? :) And by this time, it's to the point in the day where I've already had my second breakfast, so I'm thinking about where we're going to eat lunch. We finally decide on a Lonestar in some town that I couldn't remember the name of if you paid me. Lunch time also typically means more caffeine time for Johanna (and this, of course, is not something wise to deprive me of) so I order coffee with lunch. And it's possible I might have drank 2 cups in addition to the 3 glasses of water I drank. My dad was hoping we would be able to at least make it outside the city limits before needing another stop. Well...we did. Barely. An hour later...Dadddddeeeeeeeeeee...I have to peeeeeeeeeeeeee!!! So we start looking for places, and the only thing available is a small convenience store in an even smaller town. I rush in the door, and must have had a crazy look on my face. Two guys in the store immediately told me where the bathroom was without me even needing to ask. Whew. At some point over the next couple of hours, I'm pretty sure I drank more water. And I'm pretty sure I took a little nap, because the next thing I knew, we were in NY, and we had to make another stop. At this point, I realize we're about an hour from Geneva, and we're probably going to make it there without another necessary pit stop. That is, until we got to Watkins Glen. And what do we see as we're driving through town? A cute little shop advertising Vegan Soft Serve. Sorry folks, but this is an emergency. We're going to need to stop. Right now.
It was amazing, and completely, utterly, ridiculously the right thing to do. I smile at the mere thought. And of course, it's good to have your priorities straight.
Back on the road...we finally get to Geneva, and check into the Athlete's Village (which was much more of a disaster than it should have been, but we survived. We were able to bring in at least one load of luggage. And then it was off to the MicroMussel. Let's just say, it has been a LONG time since I have laughed that hard. Or seen so many adults trying to ride a tricycle.
But I guess you might be wondering what we did during this lovely road trip, other than worry about where were going to be able to stop to pee. I was a little worried about the drive because I'm not a huge fan of road trips. I really am not a fan of spending that much time in a vehicle. But this was really lovely. And there's no other way to describe it. The drive up is utterly gorgeous. I was a little disappointed that the drive through Gettysburg really doesn't show anything cool, like a battlefield or something. But hey, you DO get to see the outlet malls. It's nearly all through the mountains, and the last hour as you're along Lake Seneca was breathe taking at times. So instead of my normal "hurry up and let's just get there already" it was really nice to be able to relax, and enjoy what we saw along the way (and ate) and get there when you get there.
Final tally:
160-ish oz of water
2 cups of coffee
7 stops
340 miles
8.5 hours
We started the day off with packing my parents Explorer completely full. But Cedric was able to be packed in, while minimizing the risk of damage. I'll not give you any suspense to this bit, and let you know now that he made it to NY in once piece. Well...technically 2 because I did take off his front wheel. Needless to say, all is well on the bike front.
So...since my dad has already been to a triathlon before, we started off by trying to prepare my mom a bit for what she would experience over the next few days. Her immediate question was "where did you get this desire to do crazy things from?"
I think now would be a good time to share a couple of anecdotes about my Grandma Stein.
Perhaps one of the most famous stories about my Grandma as a young girl involves a large hill, and a pair of roller skates. Oh yes, and train tracks. So...do we really think this story is going anywhere good? Anyway, the story goes that my Grandma was out roller skating one day, like kids did back in the day, and my Grandma thought it would be a good idea to skate down this hill. And of course, at the bottom of this hill was a set of train tracks. So as my Grandma is skating at speeds no human should skate down a hill (without a helmet, or any other type of protective gear) she notices that there are, in fact, train tracks at the bottom of the hill. So of course, by the time she gets there, she has no viable means to stop. So she just jumps over the tracks, and continues skating. No harm, no foul. Just another day in the life.
Of course, this is also the girl, that when provoked by her older brother, chased him around the entire house with a broom threatening death upon his head.
So...does anyone else have any questions about where I got this from?
I didn't think so.
So after I reminded my mom about this...she kind of kept quiet about the whole situation. The mere fact that the crazy gene skipped a generation is not my fault.
So now onto the remainder of the story of our roadtrip...I'll also mention that the past week, I've been drinking approximately 2 gallons of water a day...at least. Which really is probably only about a half gallon more than normal for me. I know, I know, I'm not human. But this also meant that I had to pee about every 15 minutes. Maybe 30 if I could stretch it. And I swear, I informed my parents about this. I told my dad that a well hydrated athlete was worse than a toddler in the middle of potty training. Did he believe me, or perhaps realize the reality of this situation? Of course not!
So it's an hour into the drive, and not only am I need in dire need, so is my mother. HA! It's not all my fault! Then it's another hour into the drive. Uh...dad? :) And by this time, it's to the point in the day where I've already had my second breakfast, so I'm thinking about where we're going to eat lunch. We finally decide on a Lonestar in some town that I couldn't remember the name of if you paid me. Lunch time also typically means more caffeine time for Johanna (and this, of course, is not something wise to deprive me of) so I order coffee with lunch. And it's possible I might have drank 2 cups in addition to the 3 glasses of water I drank. My dad was hoping we would be able to at least make it outside the city limits before needing another stop. Well...we did. Barely. An hour later...Dadddddeeeeeeeeeee...I have to peeeeeeeeeeeeee!!! So we start looking for places, and the only thing available is a small convenience store in an even smaller town. I rush in the door, and must have had a crazy look on my face. Two guys in the store immediately told me where the bathroom was without me even needing to ask. Whew. At some point over the next couple of hours, I'm pretty sure I drank more water. And I'm pretty sure I took a little nap, because the next thing I knew, we were in NY, and we had to make another stop. At this point, I realize we're about an hour from Geneva, and we're probably going to make it there without another necessary pit stop. That is, until we got to Watkins Glen. And what do we see as we're driving through town? A cute little shop advertising Vegan Soft Serve. Sorry folks, but this is an emergency. We're going to need to stop. Right now.
It was amazing, and completely, utterly, ridiculously the right thing to do. I smile at the mere thought. And of course, it's good to have your priorities straight.
Back on the road...we finally get to Geneva, and check into the Athlete's Village (which was much more of a disaster than it should have been, but we survived. We were able to bring in at least one load of luggage. And then it was off to the MicroMussel. Let's just say, it has been a LONG time since I have laughed that hard. Or seen so many adults trying to ride a tricycle.
But I guess you might be wondering what we did during this lovely road trip, other than worry about where were going to be able to stop to pee. I was a little worried about the drive because I'm not a huge fan of road trips. I really am not a fan of spending that much time in a vehicle. But this was really lovely. And there's no other way to describe it. The drive up is utterly gorgeous. I was a little disappointed that the drive through Gettysburg really doesn't show anything cool, like a battlefield or something. But hey, you DO get to see the outlet malls. It's nearly all through the mountains, and the last hour as you're along Lake Seneca was breathe taking at times. So instead of my normal "hurry up and let's just get there already" it was really nice to be able to relax, and enjoy what we saw along the way (and ate) and get there when you get there.
Final tally:
160-ish oz of water
2 cups of coffee
7 stops
340 miles
8.5 hours
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Food: Friend or Foe
I've kept it no secret that I've had issues with food for...well...my entire life. And this ranges from multiple rounds of eating disorders, to gaining a massive amount of weight that got me up to almost 300 pounds...and then losing over 100 of those pounds. And to date, I still have a daily struggle with food. And most days, will readily admit that I'm addicted to food. Not only do I love food...I mean really good food. I think about food all the time. And if I go 15 minutes without eating something, I get a little shaky. And seriously...it's not like "normal" addictions where you can just go cold turkey. Because if you go cold turkey on food, that's called "anorexia" and that's just not a good thing either.
So, for the past year (ish) I've had a really weird struggle. I will do wonderfully all day long at eating healthy, staying within my intended calorie goal. And then evening comes along and I can't shove food into my mouth fast enough. Or get enough in there.
And for a really long time, I thought I was crazy, and that it was simply a mental problem that I needed to overcome. But seriously...Ironman training, not a good time to tell me I can't eat food. You might not come back with any fingers.
But today, I read an article courtesy of USAT that made a light bulb go off over my head.
I have been starving myself. Not that I haven't been eating, I just haven't been eating enough. In fact, I was about 500 calories off of my baseline calorie intake (at least according to this article). And 500 calories, that's actually a lot of food.
So, we're going to try something new. We're going to try to eat more. And I'm going to go back to my "it's ok to eat 1 cookie a day" rule. Normally, I'm fine with that rule, but with the whole binge eating at night problem, I've restricted myself from cookies in general, unless I intentionally wanted to binge, then I'd have a hard time resisting that aisle at Whole Foods.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not going completely off the deep end with junk food. At least that's not the intention. I realize how much better I feel when I eat healthy, and I'm making no plans to change that on the grand scheme of things...but in small portions, I'm ok with that. I mean...working out a minimum of 15 hours a week...I think that deserves a cookie.
Though, this does allow me to address something that some of my non-endurance athlete friends have said to me a lot lately. "You're working out all the time, you can eat whatever you want."
That sounds really nice, but it couldn't be further from the truth. If anything, I have to be more careful about what I eat BECAUSE I work out all the time. I have to make sure I eat enough protein, and carbs, and fat, but not too much fat. All for optimal performance value.
And at the end of the day, I'm going to try to care less about what the number on the scale says, and value more how I feel, and even more what the tape measure says.
A little over a year ago, I weighed the least that I have as an adult, and I was the smallest as I had ever been as an adult. This year, I now weigh about 10 pounds more than I did, but I'm the same size. And I'm ok with that.
So I'm sure that this is going to continue to be a daily struggle for me, but I'm hoping that one of these days, food and I can be on friendly terms without being TOO friendly.
So, for the past year (ish) I've had a really weird struggle. I will do wonderfully all day long at eating healthy, staying within my intended calorie goal. And then evening comes along and I can't shove food into my mouth fast enough. Or get enough in there.
And for a really long time, I thought I was crazy, and that it was simply a mental problem that I needed to overcome. But seriously...Ironman training, not a good time to tell me I can't eat food. You might not come back with any fingers.
But today, I read an article courtesy of USAT that made a light bulb go off over my head.
I have been starving myself. Not that I haven't been eating, I just haven't been eating enough. In fact, I was about 500 calories off of my baseline calorie intake (at least according to this article). And 500 calories, that's actually a lot of food.
So, we're going to try something new. We're going to try to eat more. And I'm going to go back to my "it's ok to eat 1 cookie a day" rule. Normally, I'm fine with that rule, but with the whole binge eating at night problem, I've restricted myself from cookies in general, unless I intentionally wanted to binge, then I'd have a hard time resisting that aisle at Whole Foods.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not going completely off the deep end with junk food. At least that's not the intention. I realize how much better I feel when I eat healthy, and I'm making no plans to change that on the grand scheme of things...but in small portions, I'm ok with that. I mean...working out a minimum of 15 hours a week...I think that deserves a cookie.
Though, this does allow me to address something that some of my non-endurance athlete friends have said to me a lot lately. "You're working out all the time, you can eat whatever you want."
That sounds really nice, but it couldn't be further from the truth. If anything, I have to be more careful about what I eat BECAUSE I work out all the time. I have to make sure I eat enough protein, and carbs, and fat, but not too much fat. All for optimal performance value.
And at the end of the day, I'm going to try to care less about what the number on the scale says, and value more how I feel, and even more what the tape measure says.
A little over a year ago, I weighed the least that I have as an adult, and I was the smallest as I had ever been as an adult. This year, I now weigh about 10 pounds more than I did, but I'm the same size. And I'm ok with that.
So I'm sure that this is going to continue to be a daily struggle for me, but I'm hoping that one of these days, food and I can be on friendly terms without being TOO friendly.
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