|
Went to lindfield park today. Walked n ran around while kids were in the playground. Did a few abs as well. Pushed above max HR zone for a very minor time, hardly worth mentioning but only did cos it felt like my heart was gonna explode. Not hard to get hr IUPAC cos resting is high at moment, around 90odd. Had another asthma? Attack this arvo, hr went up to resting of 145+. Hit myself up with ventolin 6straight up when I could finally get a breath deep enough. Gah. Weighed in again tonight, still 56.2 but not bad for a night weight, exactly the same as this morning so hopefully that'll be a loss tomorrow morning. Bloody hope so. Mum wants me to join a gym. Says I need a change of scene to exercise and just do treadmill and swimming. Is offering to pay now as well. Couldn't ask for a better deal. I wondered if she would back out after seeing I was (supposedly) a size 8 at Rodney Clark today but she obviously doesn't have any qualms about me having an eating disorder, or triggering one in me(!) because even knowing the sizes (the lady in the shop said "has she got the size 8 in the jeans? Oh yes she has" ) she said its like taking my medicine, it's good for me, and I should be going.
And, admittedly, having got out and done something today, I feel a shitload better for it. I really do. Of course my eating is completely fucked. I've had about a quarter(? Generous estimate) of an "emilys kitchen" creamy bacon pasta meal today and a Gloria jeans flat white on skim, and that's it. But hopefully that's not tooooo many cals. (help?!) that's the only thing I hate about freelance exercise, you don't know how much you've burned.
Dear scale, I mean little stage on the floor that I seek my self worth upon every morning, and sometimes night... Please make the little amount
|