A Rainy Day and Some Reflection

So a couple of posts ago, I said I was going to be working on getting my mind back to it's right place.

And through raking I can't begin to tell you how many leaves and then moving those same leave, and learning my plan to naturalize daffodils in the perfect spot was not viable, I started to get there.  And yesterday on the Blue Ridge Parkway helped me get there a bit more.

I think keeping the mind in the right place is a daily exercise.  One I haven't really been doing for about three years.  Various reason, perhaps more excuses than reasons.  But the bottom line is that I let my mind get almost all the way back to "Old Maura."

Almost.  But there are some "Old Maura" patterns that I have successfully refused to fall back to: McDonald's for breakfast and lunch,  bowls of rice, grits or pasta for dinner.  Not no, but hell no.  So, right now, this very minute - I'm giving myself a pat on the back.  I have successfully drawn a line in the sand and not crossed it.

It's now time to move that line a little bit closer to where I ultimately want it to be.

And here's where the mind comes into play.  Relaxing as I have over the past few days, I've realized that a good bit of mind work is actually the result of doing, not thinking.  Oh boy howdy - do I love to think!  I'll think about my next plan to lose weight.  I'll think about my next plan to work out.  I'll think it. Say it. And then stop.

The line doesn't get moved back to where it needs to be for me to be healthy, happy and fit.  And I beat myself up.  I eat.  Rinse and repeat.

I've learned a lot in the past few years.  Set goals.  Exercise.  Acknowledge Success.  Be Grateful.  Practice Discipline.  Do everything mindfully.

And I've done none of it consistently.  I get bored or distracted or to be honest, just plain forget.  Then say Oh damn!

I have an appointment with an endocrinologist week after next.  I mentioned to my husband that I am truly hopeful she is going to be able to help me get rid of the hair on my face. (One of the symptoms of PCOS) His response was "I hope she can help you manage your weight.  You don't eat enough in my presence to weigh what you do."   Dear husband has promised to go with me to the doctor when I go to hear the results of the blood work.  At that time, I think he'll learn that hamburgers and hot dogs and pizza more than once or twice a year just won't work for me.  And he may also learn that white rice, bread and pasta are poison to someone with PCOS.  I've told him.  He doesn't believe it.  But that's another issue.

I decided that if the doc was going to be able to help me with my weight (and I hope that too), then she's going to need to know what I typically eat.   Ugh - a food log.

Yep.  A food log.   Here's me doing: I am committing to keeping a food journal from now until November 2nd.   I downloaded an app today - it's not a calorie counter app. It's a log to help me also keep track of hunger levels and how mindfully I eat.  I am committing to keeping my food journal in this app from now until November 2nd.

Hubby won't like it.  He doesn't like most weight management tools. But tough.  I took out my iPhone and took a pic of  my lunch today:  1/2 a grilled turkey and swiss on whole wheat with a cup of home made chicken noodle soup.  Lots of chicken, not so many noodles. Yum.

So, this post has been rambling.  I'll try to some it up here.  Getting the mind in the right place and keeping it there takes daily diligence.  I choose to practice that diligence now by keeping a food log every day.  And on the days I can - a few minutes of quiet introspection.

I sense the woman who gave me the advice recently has given up on me.  I am sorry about that if it's the case.  However, I'm not doing this for her or anyone else.  I'm doing this for me.  And dammit - I'm gonna do it my way.  And I'm going to succeed.