There is nothing sweeter about working than those lovely days that you earn known as "holidays". Being at home without anything I "should" be doing except look after the babes is fantastic. Gives me time to pause and reflect and just not think. Brain sleep.
I have played computer games, I have done a good whack of my latest knitting project (a pair of sherbert shorties for the Monkey), I have lined up some new projects and I have gone back to the gym after a hiatus. Of all the other things besides the unfettered time with the girls, it is the thing I have missed most about trying to juggle everything. I kept meaning to go but LH would have a meeting, or the Monkey would be ill, or I'd get my monthly endo visit from hell and it just seemed like all too much effort.
What I really mean by that I guess is that doing something for me just felt like too much effort. Plus somewhere in my screwed up brain it felt wrong to do something for me when I already am taking so much by going back. Which is ridiculous and self sabotaging. Aside from anything else I am a better person when I go to the gym regularly. My moods are better, my outlook is better.
I need to actually be serious about doing this for me, and it not being a bad thing to do. That it's not completely selfish and horrible to actually do it for myself. That I am worth it (Thanks L'Oreal).
LH bought some chocolate last night and it was very exciting to eat it for dessert when we normally never have chocolate in the house and we both scoffed a good whack of it. About 15 minutes later though we were both looking at eachother saying "Why did we do that". Felt completely sick. It's doing shit like that that is destroying my immune system and my health.
Tonight I ran for 45minutes and rode the cross country circuit on the bikes for an hour. I burned around 2000kJ or more, and it's funny, that is like a packet of twisties. Running and cycling so hard that I was soaked with sweat and the lactic acid build up made me dry retch into my mouth, and all that for a Mars Bar. I remember watching that episode of the Biggest Loser with Munnawhatshername who ate the 2 Mars Bars and thinking, well, it's not that big a deal... Those 2 Mars Bars were maybe 3 or 4 hours of exercise that she had to do just to be in the same position she was before. That's INSANE! No wonder the trainer went nutso.
I know all this intellectually, but it's so abstract in reality. To look at a bowl of pasta and think - that's a 40 minute run. Up a hill if it's a creamy sauce. It's hard! It just seems so pointless when food is so nice. I don't eat crap (see chocolate response) but I do eat too "well" and too much for the amount of exercise that I'm doing. There were contributing factors (the suicidal contraceptive pill experiment where I gained 15kg) but they were just things that made it harder, not what made it happen.
I am meant to be about 60kg. I once maintained well under that easily (though I don't recommend my methods) but I should still be there. I shouldn't have a 7 in front of my weight. I should be a Size 12, whinging about trying to find tops that fit my bust properly. I am only a Size 14 now, and am not disgustingly huge, but I shouldn't be here. I really shouldn't. My health, wellbeing and self image is taking a complete battering at the moment. That needs to change. So more sweating and focus from me. I am not turning 26 with a 7 in front of my weight. It's just not asseptable.