Down Again, Up Again

I was so terribly excited to be back on track again.  I had gone thoroughly off course in September and October, and finally through most of November was back on track exercising every day, eating healthy, getting out of the house.

Heck, I ran every single day I was in Houston for Thanksgiving and ate very sensibly despite being on vacation and having lots of insensible choices!

Saturday, a germ caught up with me, and I've spent most of the last few days sleeping and watching Downton Abbey episodes on my iPad.  I'm exhausted and worried yesterday that I'm all off track again and this is TOO hard, etc, ad nauseum.  Let's just ignore that I've been living off chicken soup and herbal tea and some sort of syrupy natureopathic remedy that tastes really good but has uncertain results.

I want cookies.  Except the thought of actually eating them sounds awful, as I'm not really into food when I'm sick.

Okay, what I REALLY want is someone to pat my head and tell me, "You are going to be just fine and the world is turning without you and here's some more tea that you don't have to get out of your cozy bed and freeze to death to make." 

Cookies really AREN'T comfort.  What a nice learning and growing moment for me to learn other ways of self care.  Whatever.  I'm curling back up under the comforter and letting Roxy use me as furniture.

Since I worried out loud of being off track YET AGAIN this year, the person I said this to pointed out that I'm not ACTUALLY off-track, I am sick, and that is different, and as long as once I feel better I get back into my normal rhythm of life, it won't count even a little bit as being off-track.

That DOES make me feel better, actually.  I know I ought to feel happy and proud that I've managed to maintain my weight for almost a year, despite that this year has been so challenging in so many ways, but a lot of times, I just feel like I'm never going to get where I really want to be.  Now, I've never actually defined what is in my head for where I want to be, but I do know I'm not there yet.

Yes, I know that is crazy-making.  I've come a very long way from two years ago, and I recognize that.  In a month, I will be 43 years old, and frankly, I'm getting restless.

Maybe it's just time to change things up a bit.