I kind of don't care right now. I don't ENJOY the fact that my pants feel a bit tighter and I don't feel as good as I would if I was exercising regularly and eating right, but I'm having a hard time working up the appropriate level of dissatisfaction with myself. Jason pointed out to me last night that even though I can't exercise right now, I could still eat well. Then I asked him how his running program was going and that was the end of the conversation. He has this groovy new watch that will keep track of his running stats and a couple of weekends ago he figured out how to use it, but he hasn't actually gone for a run yet.
However, we're both coughing a lot, though. I was actually hoping to swim last week. And then I was hoping to swim this week. But since walking up two flights of stairs sends me into paroxysms of coughing, working out just isn't happening.
So I could be eating better and at least momentarily staving off weight gain. But like I said above, I'm having a really hard time caring right now. I'm enjoying having a couple Girl Scout cookies with my lunch and eating my fresh-baked cranberry bread.
Yeah, I know, another whiny post about my lack of motivation. I promise as soon as this cough goes away I will be back on the bandwagon. One of the perks of exercising regularly is after I slog through 90 laps, I don't really want to eat a bunch of crap to negate my awesome workout. Funny how that happens.