I'm feeling ok about things at the moment. Downright cheerful, even.
My food has failed abysmally to be anywhere near my count plans. It's generally a mile short of every number, especially calories, as I've been having a hard time eating enough and if it weren't for high-protein/low-carb slimfast in a can I might not have ingested anything several days the last week. But I'm working on keeping at least protein up sufficiently high, if nothing else, and today I've done ok. My only problem is a lack of prepared food, plans, etc.: a problem of my own making.
My exercise (see Tomboy Tough) has been somewhere between hilarious and traumatic, as I realize I'm not qualified to get on and off an exercise bicycle, let alone ride the damn thing. If I do a back exercise with light weights, such as the bent over row, the stress of other things -- my bent leg holding my body, my arm on the bench, contribute so many working muscle groups to the overall exercise that it becomes a highly compound core exercise that makes me pant and sweat, instead of something simple. I can't get anywhere near the exercises I wanted to do most -- lunge and squat -- so instead bend my legs so I'm about 1/3 of a kneebend, then just hold it as long as I can. Today set a record: 40 seconds. Heh. Let's just say the entire experience is as much an adjustment for my ego as it is for my body.
But you know what? I'm doing it. It's hard as hell sometimes to not want to just get JUNK because it's quick and there -- Taco Bell is literally like a family food group for me -- but I don't. It's hard as hell to do the working out stuff, which is so exhausting, sweat profusely drips off me on everything to the point where I have to wear a towel now, that's how exhausting it is -- and yet, I like the feel of doing it and I like the feel of accomplishment when it's over.
I feel like I'm on the road again: on the path to that big "doing something good with my life." The details are fuzzy still. The close up journey is decidedly imperfect. The goals are so far away I can't begin to read the signs. But the sweat and the soreness and the scale gradually going down (now at lowest weight ever since I first began losing weight) tells me I must be doing something right.
I can't tell you when I'll be even halfway there, but I'm kinda proud of myself, to be able to say that I am truly on the road.