A friend asked me, after reading some of these, if it felt good to be doing this for myself. The answer is yes, but I guess I don't talk about that answer enough. This space is usually reserved for nitpicking and worries and minutiae and anxieties. I haven't really stepped back and thought about it: it feels good to improve. I am improving. Slowly, surely.
I have been accidentally entering my beans wrong all week. Marked it as a half cup when it should've said a full cup. That's 110 calories missing. Well... I mean, it's only Wednesday, so maybe that's only happened three times at most. And so 300 calories off. And I've definitely had some wiggle room over that same time, so I don't think I accidentally went over or anything. And even if I did, so what? An extra 100 calories above my ceiling per day means I'm losing 1.9 pounds that week instead of two. WHO CARES.
If that's my big issue today, then that means it was a good day. Not very exciting. That's a good thing.
Let's see, what else, what else... I went to the gym two days in a row. Did the same thing as yesterday—bumped down the weights, but upped the reps of each weight. Still felt like a good workout. I'm going to keep doing that. It's easier to go to the gym now that I'm not putting pressure on myself (pun?) to "go hard" and to "achieve something" there. It's just a tangible health thing that I can say I'm doing, and that feels good. It serves as great motivation to keep going with the diet stuff.
In one week it'll have been a month doing this. One day at a time.
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