Yesterday, I was so excited, so proud of myself because I was going to my WW meeting alone, sans husband. He says he is still into it, and he is still gonna follow the plan, but by skipping the week 4 meeting because he didn't have a good week, I am pretty sure he has already fallen off the wagon.
Anyway, meeting wasn't until 5:30, so I decided to do everything humanly possible to ensured that the scale read in my favor. Read: I didn't eat anything all day because I didn't want to have anything sitting in my stomach that could weigh me down. Anything. So, I drank a cup of coffee to make sure to get everything out that was already there. And by the time 5:00 rolled around, I pulled on my weight watchers uniform and drug my empty body to the church to step on the scale.
0.4 lbs. That's it. A measly .4. That's all I lost.
So, during the meeting, I was thinking "I can do better than this. This next week I am not going to eat at Mahogany or spaghetti and garlic bread or taco salad or an entire bunch of grapes in one sitting. And I will drink water, more than what soaks into my skin in the shower. Because as it turns out, all I drank from Wednesday to Monday was coffee and diet root beer. Not one single glass of H2O.
So the second I got home, husband and I raced to the gym. You know because I had so many calories in my body to burn off and all.
And I did my work on the elliptical machine and then it happened. And I was that girl. The girl who doesn't eat all day and then works out to the point that she passes out right in the middle of all the meatheads.
Ok well I didn't pass out, but I did feel so sick that I had to sit on the cold windowsill with my head between my legs because I didn't think I could make it to the exit without either throwing up, unloading myself, or passing out cold. I even asked husband if I could lay down on the floor, but I could tell he wasn't really in favor of that idea. So, when I felt that he was becoming a little impatient errr embarrassed of me, I made the attempt, but not without grabbing his hand a couple times on the way out, and I guess you aren't supposed to do that...hold hands with a tough guy in the gym in front of other tough guys. Not a good idea.
Anyway, I made it to the car, did a little dry heaving in the parking lot and then curled up in a ball in the seat with my head on the console. I even made a nice little sweat puddle.
I guess that husband was really worried though because he asked me a question and when he didn't hear my response he asked it again with panic in his voice. And then he took my pulse! After years of working in hospice, I guess that's what it comes to.
Well, I made it home, had a snack and felt much better, and after a lecture from husband I will not be going to the gym on an empty stomach. Ever. Again. I cannot risk being that girl. Ever. Again.