Exercise is the only thing that makes me feel like I have any control over my body's destiny. The call-and-response of pushing myself further and being rewarded with strength and endurance is a thrill.
I'm over whatever funky gunk was going on the last few weeks and I've since had several hard work outs. The hubby was the impetus. He played a pick-up hockey game and sucked so hard, he asked me to "squat him."
So I've been his trainer. We did a HIIT squat routine and I didn't even feel it. If you recall, back during the steroid tapering days, the same workout wiped the floor with me. I had to updose. Now my body says 'That's it? That's all you got? We can do more.' So I went and ran stairs.
At the moment, I'm in better shape than the hubby. I want to enjoy those fleeting moments where I can leave him in the dust on a run. It won't last. He's a natural athlete and will rapidly outpace me. The word athlete is never used in conjunction with my name, so I get overly excited anytime I can out-do anyone.
I would love to get excited about the scale moving down as well, but my body is stubbornly holding on to this weight. I had a funny experience the other day that, I think, shows the barnacle-like nature of this set point.
I pigged out.
My appetite has been low and, as a result, I've not been eating on a regular schedule. The thing is, sooner or later, my body wakes up and force feeds me whatever calories I missed for the day. Usually this happens at night. I know it's going to happen and I want to eat to head it off, but I can't make myself eat if I'm not hungry. It just doesn't work that way.
So the neighbor girls threw a (lovely) pinata party for the toddler and brought over cookies and ice cream at the precise minute my body threw a hissy fit about the lack of calories. So I ate quite a bit of stupid sugary stuff* figuring I'd gain a few pounds, but not do any permanent damage.
*Five cookies. Two heaping bowls of ice cream.
Then, the oddest thing happened. I got hot. Furnace hot. The a/c was on and I was just frying up inside. This persisted through to the next day. When I checked the scale, no weight gain.
I'm convinced my body was burning off those calories to preserve the set point, and it marks another situation where my body has broken with patterns of the past. Typically, I would see a 3-5lb gain from that much sugar and bloat. Neither happened.
I don't know why my body likes this particular number on the scale, but it is hell bent on sticking to it.
Should I Get a Second Opinion?
1 day ago
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