Moody Truths

I'm not sure if you've noticed.

But I spent some time today looking over the past three or four months of posts and it's very clear to me.

I'm a bitch when I don't exercise and eat right.

And I get all mopey. And pissy. And wallow in the bleah. The more bleah, the less I exercise and eat right. The less exercise and eating right there is, the more bleah that follows. It's a stupid, depressing, downward spiral.

I was looking through old posts because I was making yet another trip to the doctor to see if I can get this damn knee figured out. (It turns out, writing a blog comes in handy to keep track of things I'd never normally keep good track of.) What I noticed was that as my ability to get the miles in decreased, my general unhappiness increased. I also got sloppy with my eating, made you promises I made no attempt to keep and just sort of gave up.

Yeah. It's hard to work around an injury. And nearly everyone who's ever lost weight has struggled to keep it off. When a couple of pounds creep back on, it's easy to get discouraged.

Discouraged and pissy.

I'm back to the radiology department for another MRI of my sore knee. I'm going to bike in an attempt to keep some cardio going, since even walking right now is out of the question. I'm going to try to help Jim get ready for his first 5k and I'm going to do my best to lifts some weights and eat better.

Bring on the spring. I'm ready for the sunshine. Literally and metaphorically.