Three and a half pounds in one long weekend. I don't have excuses or tears or anything - I am just disappointed. We went to Vancouver to visit my family. We left Thursday at the crack of dawn and stayed until early Monday morning. It was a quick trip, loaded with trips to the aquarium and a parade, a baby shower, wine, and lots of time spent with my brother and his girls. It was lovely. But three and a half pounds?!
This is what I've discovered about myself; a) I am perfectly capable to taking a trip without eating greasy burger fast food all throughout (we caved ONLY once and on the LONGGG drive home) b) Carbs are not my friend - ok, well not all carbs 'cause some (the right carbs) are good - eating bagels every day for breakfast and doughy delicious deli sandwiches and pizza and pasta and coffee and and and... c) not eating enough really does cause you to gain weight.
You'd think if I was maxing out on 1000 calories a day and chasing after three little kidlets that I'd at least maintain, but NO. Almost everything that went into my mouth was a bad choice. Too little fuel + garbage fuel = 3 and 1/2 stinking, ugly, jiggley pounds. My body needs good fuel to work properly. It also needs enough fuel for the tasks I want it to preform. 1400 calories is really MY base minimum just so my organs can function properly, that doesn't even take into account chasing a two year old, going to the gym, riding my bike, or ANYTHING. If I'm eating under that then my body goes into starvation mode and holds onto every bad choice that finds my mouth. My hips are like a bitter ex; they never forget that donut that fell into my mouth and they take forever to get over it.
Back to it! Going to do a quick home workout tonight and than back to personal training tomorrow. Cross your fingers Jo doesn't make me cry and puke at the same time that she tortures every single muscle in my body.
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