Frustration, Irritation

Hello, all. My honesty is ugly today. It's sad, it's frustrating, it's negative. I'm throwing a pity party. A journey, though, isn't a successful one without struggles, so I wouldn't be true to my journey if I didn't record the dark times. I'm not a poet or a creative writer, so I feel the need for a disclosure: whatever materializes below is no attempt to make myself seem to be something I'm not.

I tracked.
I ran. cycled. yoga-ed.
I tracked.
broccoli, shrimp, peanut butter.
Oops. a 3 musketeers bar.
I wasn't prepared for hunger.
I hadn't had a banana in days.
Pay day is today.

There was pizza on Sunday.
Today, 1.4 pounds
added to the number on the scale.
I tracked.
I ran. cycled. yoga-ed.
There it was:
pizza, candy bar--
the scale.

I know numbers don't
necessarily mean success.
I know they don't necessarily mean
failure.

I feel failure.
Disappointment.
Frustration.

Wait--I can now run
12 miles.
I'm going for
13.1
I'm down 4 sizes
2.4 pounds away from
a 60-pound loss.

But, last week I was
1 pound away from 60.
I feel failure.
Disappointment.
Frustration.

I can't celebrate.
Not today.

Today, I'll
track.
Run.
Yoga.