Struggle Week.

I don't know if it's the cold - we've been blessed with sub-zero windchills this weeks, or if it's my strange exhaustion. I've been wanting to go to bed at 8:30 every night this week, and while I've tried to hold out and stay up to hang out with Big Red, I've hit the sack by 9:30. What. The. F*ck.

As for working out, I've used the elliptical, but it wasn't for as long or hard as I'd initially set out to do. It's just WAY TOO COLD to run outside. And I don't consider myself a baby when it comes to the cold, but this week has just been a little too chilly for my budding runner's taste.

And eating, well, I'm doing alright during the day, and even in the evenings it's been fine. But. I did have two brownies last night, instead of eating just one. It's like the old scarf-beast showed up for a brief visit. Dammit.

I'm not going to beat myself up over this wonky-ass week. In the past, it would be at this point that I'd say, screw it all, and throw in the towel, eat whatever the hell I wanted and pitched working out. I'm NOT going to do that this time. I know that health is a life-long commitment, a marathon and not a sprint. So what. So I had an "off week." Perhaps even the scale will be Debbie Downer to me on Sunday. Alright fine. I'll chart the ugly numbers (who knows, they may not even be so bad...yeah, right, but whatever), and then shoot for a better week.

"We are made to persist. That's how we find out who we are." Tobias Wolff

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