Trying To Rally

Went back to the grocery store yesterday and reloaded on the proper Ultra Fit-type food. Trying to drag myself out of the muck and get this thing moving back in the right direction.

I appreciate the direct comments from some of you in recent days. Trust me, I welcome all sorts of feedback. When you're trying to find motivation, anything and everything written, said or even thought can be used as a weapon.

However, the unfortunate truth in this situation is that the thing that has made the most impact of late is the death of David Poole.

Poole, 50, dropped dead of a heart attack at his home earlier this week. He was a popular, well-read writer and commentator who made his living covering NASCAR. He was considered the best in the business covering the sport.

Poole was also a very large man.

So to see another person lose the same battle I'm fighting...well, let's just say it got my attention.

I didn't know David personally. But I did, of course, know Anthony Bell. If you've read this blog on a regular basis, you know the backstory there.

Bottom line, it shook me up pretty good.

I don't want to be next. So I've got to find a way to get my head out of my rear end and get rolling again.

For all the good I've done in the past 16 months, none of it will matter if I don't finish the deal.

Sunday Musings

It's becoming more and more apparent that my mind isn't in this thing the way it should be.

I've not had a good week. Only got to work out once because of travel/restaurant duties, and I'm finding it easier and easier to make excuses for making bad decisions with my nutrition.

It's mostly mental. I go back to Christmas Eve, when I did the 10-up and 10-down on the stairs carrying the 50 pounds in weights. Since then it's as if an internal switch flipped, and I can't get it turned on again.

No matter how much I beat up myself, no matter how much I encourage myself, no matter how logically or illogically I look at my situation, I can't find that same motivation.

I don't know what's going to happen, but something better. And quickly.

Because if it doesn't, all hell is liable to break loose.

Quick Update

Just checking in before heading out to church.

Thinking perhaps I should be praying for strength to get me through these next few weeks. Because boys and girls, I'm tired. My feet hurt, my legs hurt, my back hurts...You name it.

Running around like the proverbial headless chicken on a concrete floor all day has been good for calorie burning, but bad for my physical condition.

Yet I think back to a year ago at this time, and there's no way I have done what I'm doing now. It would have been physically impossible.

So again, along with every bump in the road comes some type of encouragement.

It's just taking time to step back, pause a brief moment, and recognize the progress. And that's my issue. At it's core. I tend to look ahead and say, "Wow. I've still got a long, long road ahead."

Sometimes I forget I've come a long way, too.

Time

One thing I've found in the last few days:

When you try to run a restaurant on top of having another job, you don't have time. No time to eat, no time to talk, and no time to waste.

We had our quiet opening Monday, then today had the official Grand Opening. It was a madhouse - which is good for the cash register but bad for any type of routine. It's been that way for the last four days, and though I haven't been able to get in all my meals or stay on any type of regular schedule, I've lost weight. I can feel it. It's all the running around, not having time to think about food.

Hopefully when we get through this week things will smooth out a bit and we'll settle into a workable routine.

In the meantime, it's possible all this has been a blessing as far as my weight loss goes. We'll find out Monday, which is the next time I can hit the scales over at Clemson.

Fighting Through

Checking in quickly so you know I haven't taken the pipe or anything like that.

Trying to get myself geared back up mentally to hit this thing head on again. Spent some of tonight preparing food for the week. I need to keep good meals with me at all times, because now I have the added pressure of the restaurant - which opens at 11 a.m. Monday.

I will weigh in on Wednesday, assess the damage, and try to move forward.

I keep telling myself things are going to be just fine. I keep waiting for myself to believe it.

Naked Truth

I'm scared. Mortified, even.

No matter what I tell myself, no matter how much I set my mind, no matter what John or Vernon say, I can't get motivated and get that edge back.

I'm afraid the switch has flipped off, and I can't turn it back on.

It's frustrating. Good day, bad day. Good meal, bad meal. Over and over again.

I've wasted three months, and I'm beginning to think that maybe this is as far as I'm going to get. The train has left the station, and I feel like I'm left standing on the platform.

How the hell does this happen? I wish I knew the answer.

All I know is I feel that wall building around me again.

And that terrifies me.

Consistently Inconsistent

The scales at Clemson are fixed. I wish they were still broken.

Hit them this morning, and somehow over the past three weeks I've gained back about four pounds or so. Needless to say, I'm not going to get to that 32 pounds by my birthday in two weeks.

But, the only thing to do is to pick myself up and get back after it. As I wrote yesterday, I've got a week's worth of good food prepared, so there's really no excuse moving forward.

For the record I sit at 377 as of this morning, my total pounds lost in 15 months sitting now at 102. Since I peaked out at 112 in December, it's been a constant struggle to maintain the motivation.

But I refuse to give up, even though the thought crosses my mind every single day. I simply can't.

There's too much at stake.