If only I could stop eating when I should be sleeping, perhaps I'd lose the rest of this weight I want to lose.
You know how it works. You have the best intentions to stay on plan all day. You eat right for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and log your food. You make it to the gym and put in a decent workout. You drink 2 1/2 liters of water. All is right with your little dieting world.
Then at 9 p.m. after everyone is in bed and it's just me and the TV and my book (I'm such a freak--I have the TV on while I read, goes back to my days in school when I have to have music or movies on while I did homework. I think my brain is so used to multi-tasking it doesn't know how to operate otherwise), the munchies set in.
First it was a Cliff Z bar. Then it was the rest of the Chex Mix. Then it was 2 Entemann's mini muffins. And finally three graham cracker sheets (because that was all that was left in the open package; it would probably have been more if there had been more in the ziplock bag).
And that was just last night. The two nights before were just as bad.
So I know I could get below 150 if I'd stop eating like this and get the water weight off. My running the past two days is saving me (4 miles yesterday at a decent pace), I suppose, as is the "good" eating and lots of water drinking, from gaining more weight. And I think my body is accustomed to this weight.
But I feel so disgusted with myself in the mornings, cotton mouthed and bloated. Fully expecting to weigh 5 more pounds than I did the day before. Thanking the diet gods that I don't. Knowing I've dodged a bullet, but playing around like this is eventually going to end up getting me shot in the butt.
I've got to change my habits, I know. And I realize this IS a habit. I'm on autopilot most nights. Sitting down after a long ass day on my tired behind is just what the doctor ordered. Unfortunately, filling my face with food isn't.
Things have got to change. Now I have to find the energy to change them.