Blood was down to 4.6 this morning, for no terribly good reason.
The toe is pretty much healed, as far as I can tell. The blisters, while always a threat, lurking there on the horizon, are not currently troubling me.
It's time to change all that.
Since the weigh-in on Tuesday (never mind the weigh-in, show me the way out, as Hancock said...), I seem to have been, not to put too fine on it, ravenous enough to ride a three-legged horse to the hot dog stand, while chewing on one of it's ears.
Had a sort of double-breakfast yesterday - porridge and a sausage sandwich - and a double-lunch today - soup and a sausage pasta, so I'm probably having more food this week than I've had in recent weeks. Also, last night, I ran out of time, and did no biking whatsoever. I've certainly been doing some walking, but it's easy walking, training-wheels walking, thoroughly pleasant, not-gonna-aggravate-anything walking.
I think it's time to change all that too. Tonight I'm certainly going to get to the bike, and tomorrow, I'm thinking of getting back to the 'getting up early, strapping on the walking boots with good socks, and walking my ass off before work' routine. This may, ultimately, be foolish, but I feel like I have to come back out from the cotton-wool fog of stupid-ass injury and recuperation, and really get back on with the business of this weightloss challenge.
Of course, I'm way out of practice, so I may wake up tomorrow and go "Ah, bugger it," and stay warm and safe and yummy under my blankets till the very last conceivable second. The Path of Good Intentions and all that...
But I figure the best way to tackle a Path of Good Intentions is with a stout pair of walking boots on.
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