I wish this wasn’t the case, but this week has taken a rather uninspired turn since Sunday. Here goes, full disclosure time.
Sunday was pretty fabulous: Andrew and I went out to Eagle Creek and hiked a mean 13+ miles. We were able to do the entire trail in just over 6 hours, which is a pretty sweet feat. By the end of the trail, my feet were screamin’. I have really great hiking boots, but no amount of greatness can quell the pain from a hike with mileage in the double digits. By the time we got back to the car and I kicked off my boots, peeled off my socks and slipped on my flip-flops, I was greeted to the sight of a few ghastly looking blisters on my right foot. Just my right foot. Left foot was immaculate. Right foot hated me something fierce. When I got home, I treated my blisters by carefully and cleanly draining them. By Monday, my foot was totally healed except for the blister on my baby toe. It’s on the underside of it, and walking on it killed. But I have a job that requires me being on my feet, so I sucked it up until I got home. I had wanted to take a hike right after work since I got off so early and the weather was amazing and it would have been perfect, but I thought I’d give it another day to heal. By yesterday, it was still hurting. I stayed off of it after I got off work. At night, I went to a concert, and it hurt just putting my foot into a shoe. Like, hurt so bad I could only bear it if I wore my flip flops, so I covered the crap out of my toe with neosporin and bandages to prevent infection and dealt with it. By today, it was so painful I was hobbling around at work. I was hoping by today it would be healed because I was desperately looking forward to a hike. Instead I’ve been off my feet all day since I got home this morning. Tomorrow is my day off and I really wanted to go on a nice hike, but I have no idea what the condition of my foot when I wake up will be. I learned that neosporin is actually terrible for blisters, and keeping it exposed and dry is best for it. So I have been. Walking doesn’t feel bad when I’m barefoot on my carpet, but as soon as my foot is in a shoe it isn’t having it. Desperately hoping I wake up tomorrow feeling top notch. I’m itching to get out on a trail, even if it’s just a little shorty 1-2 mile trail.
Being off my feet except to work has really affected my mood in a strongly negative way I never anticipated. On top of being a Hobble McGee, I’m PMSing something fierce. I’ve wanted to consume every chocolatey, sugary, salty, carby thing in sight, and in a really bad way. Last month, if you recall, when I was PMSing I just wanted a lazy day, had one, and it didn’t affect my success for the week. But yesterday, I caved. It was one of those instances where your internal monologue is screaming at you to do the right thing, but your whims take control anyway and bad things happen. I went to the store and bought chocolate. I wish I could say I bought a single chocolate bar, indulged, was satisfied and was done with it, but a girl doesn’t reach obesity by being reasonable. No, I caved and bought a bag of my arch-nemesis: Peanut M&M’s. That’s right. I could barely walk, but I desired them so badly I hobbled my ass into the store and bought freaking M&M’s. But I didn’t stop there. Because I also wanted something caramelly, so I added a Milky Way. And then I wanted something nougaty, so I also added a 3 Musketeers. And of course I needed something with a little crunch, so I added a Twix. In total, I purchased 3 candy bars and a bag of M&M’s, because this is what happens when I have no self control. I hobbled my ass back home, consumed two of the candy bars in quick succession, then tore into the M&M’s a short while later. Did any of that make me feel any better? Oh sure. When I was eating them. Then immediately after came the old familiar feelings of disgust and shame. And then the self-berating. The thoughts of “Why have I worked so hard these past 5+ weeks to slip into old habits and undo everything?” and “Do I really have this little respect for myself?” And then I just felt like shit, physically and mentally. It’s a terrible and vicious thing when I lose my sense of control. Granted, this has only happened twice since I started WW (as opposed to pretty much every single day pre-WW), but the feeling doesn’t get any better. If anything, I feel even more shitty about it. Because now that I’m making a sincere effort to change my habits, every lapse makes me feel like a fraud.
Between yesterday’s terrible chocolate mayhem and not being comfortable on my feet all week, I’ve just felt like complete and total poo. I’ve been desperate to be active but my foot is all like, “HAHA screw you! Stay on the couch and eat some crap, fatty!” It’s awful. I look at Fiona every night and feel worse when I see I haven’t met my steps and miles for the day. And I feel even more horrible when I look in my food tracker and see the awfulness I’ve been shoveling down my gob. This is, bar none, the worst week I’ve had since trying to turn it all around.
That said, I’m trying to decrease the self-loathing. I’ve had a shitty week. I can cop to that. Am I going to keep hobbling out to the store to buy more sugary crap to feed my whims? No, I’m done with that. I’m trying to reclaim my dignity, move past this lapse, and not hate on myself so much. I’m also trying to trust that as soon as my hormones settle, the urge to feed myself terrible things will also subside. And as soon as my foot heals, I’ll be back killing it on the trails. This has been a bad week. But it isn’t over yet. I’m going to do whatever damage control I can these next two days, face whatever happens at my weigh-in on Saturday, and move on. Consider it already behind me. No sense carrying it with me any longer than it needs to be.
In the meantime, I’m keeping my fingers crossed my foot is in decent shape tomorrow. It would be a shame to let a perfectly good day off go by without spending it on a trail. But I also don’t want to exacerbate this hell-beast blister any further. If it’s not any better I’m going to the pharmacy to scope out some blister aides. Just keeping my fingers crossed it’s not infected and actually getting worse.
Alright week #6, you might be ugly, but you haven’t defeated me yet. I still have two days left to fight for you.