Well, I guess the public shaming is working. I didn't write during the last few days because I was slacking off my diet, workout, and internet. So I didn't expose my failure. But to write again, I feel I have to explain the last few days. So shame it is. Hopefully this embarrassment will be preemptive next time.
Thursday evening I had one of those moments that really shows how vital food is to my happiness. I was starving after my spin workout and leaving school to go to an alumni mixer. I called the boyfriend just to say hey ... and I was a total bitch. He was nothing but nice, asking about my day, but my hunger somehow twisted that into him not saying enough words on the phone, being selfish and rude, and killing puppies to take over the world. He was, of course, doing none of those things, but that's what I heard through my food-deprived ears. I hung up in a huff, drove to the mixer, and the minute I put that first delicious southwestern chicken egg roll into my mouth, I thought back to the phone conversation. Crap. Add to the to-do list: apology. How many calories is pride, again?
Friday was a road trip to Athens for a moot court round, and I'm counting walking as my workout that day. I actually say that with a straight face - I was running errands downtown in Altanta that morning, walked to dinner that night, and walked around Athens during the day. And it was hot. And I was walking briskly.
The food - diet failure, taste victory. If you love New Orleans cuisine and are in Athens, hit up NONA on Broad St. I had the grilled chicken maque choux and creamed spinach. DELICIOUS, though fattening. The plus is that the portions were on the smaller side (not something I would normally rave about, but it was good for guilt and kept me from falling asleep during the moot court round).
Until today, Saturday was a good day. Well, it was a good food day still - smoothies, eggs, salads. And it was an okay workout day except for the fact that I now think I have to take a workout break because of it. I went to the driving range (okay, not a really intense work out, but good physical activity nonetheless). Made a decent showing considering how long it had been since I last swung a club.
But then, without warning: the dreaded swing of doom. I hit a ball and felt a pain rip across my lower abdomen. I can only describe it as 'right in the baby maker.' Yes - I honestly thought I tore my uterus muscles. After a few minutes of recovery, I figured I had just pulled too hard on my already-sore-from-two-absplosions lower abs. I shook it off, went home, didn't think much about it.
Sunday - pain. Really annoying pain. So no workout, of course. How to pass the time ... I know! Cooking! With the boyfriend's help I made coq au vin, which I ate too much of. But still, it was delicious - so that makes it okay, right?
Monday. How? How does it still hurt this bad? And it's swollen?!?! Of all the places I don't need swelling, my lower stomach is probably numero uno. I wondered all day if I had a hernia. Can women even get hernias? Ah! I'm positive my insurance is not going to just take care of this - it was hard enough trying to get a prescription for Allegra before it went OTC. So instead of going to the doctor, what do I do? Why, consult the infinite wisdom of the World Wide Web, of course! WebMD confirmed that women can indeed get hernias, but looking at the symptoms, I don't think that's my issue.
Of course I didn't work out today, and I ate buffet appetizers at an evening event, so today is not a great 'wellness' day. I actually got home with time to do P90X, but I think it would be foolish to mess with Tony in my current state. I can just picture it now - I go to do a power warrior pose, Tony encouraging me to stay light-headed and nauseous (that's how you know it's working!), and as I go to switch positions my intestines burst forth from my over-strained abdomen. No thanks.
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