Weekly sabotage. We meet again.
You weren’t even that tempting to me today. I spent very little time lingering in the kitchen, staring at your sugary goodness. I had plenty of sugary goodness last night. I’m not even in the mood for sweets.
But wait. Did someone say Oreo Cheesecake Muffin? Stop it. Just, please.
How can that be considered breakfast?
No really, how? I only ask because I need to somehow justify eating the rest of that Strawberry Cheesecake Muffin because it’s CHEESECAKE and I love cheesecake and I haven’t had it in FOREVER.
Okay. Calm down Meghan. It’s just cheesecake. Walk away. WALK AWAY.
I’ve been feeling really bad about my food choices lately (although, I did manage to resist the cheesecake muffins which was damn near miraculous if you ask me).
I’m so scared to weigh myself this weekend. Never been more nervous about it. I keep thinking about that quote, something along the lines of 1 hour at the gym can’t cancel out the other 23 hours of the day if you don’t make the right food choices. Should I just weigh myself next week instead?
No. Suck it up, survey the damage, and get back on track. That’s what I need to do.
Work it Out
Anyway, I made it to the gym today. But I have to be honest, I had a terrible run. I haven’t had a bad run in months. Blah.
I did this workout from carrotsncake. It was definitely challenging for me, because I’ve been doing more run/walk intervals rather than a full 30 minutes of running. But that wasn’t the problem. Before I even started my run I had a muscle cramp. And I was just completely exhausted. Maybe a sugar coma from all the cupcakes yesterday?
I don’t know. All I know is I was pretty beat once I finished that workout. I drove home with the intention of starting Week 4 of Ripped in 30, but I just couldn’t motivate myself to get it done. Plus Andrea was out of town, and Logan needed a walk. So off we went!
After our walk, I showered and made a quick dinner of broiled salmon with rice and some leftover guacamole. Then I gave into my exhaustion, and went to bed much earlier than I’d like to admit (ahem: 8:30). On a Friday night.
I’m an old lady, it’s fine.