Last week was really rather stupid. After throwing my back out, I decided it was time to get back on the health bandwagon. I'd already been counting calories for a couple of days in an effort to shed the Thanksgiving/Christmas pudge, but I got back on the schedule of my pilates instructor (who I trade for lessons - how cool is that?), AND was looking forward to a good ass kicking by Pam Goodrich this weekend. Oy vey.
Pam was fabulous, of course, and all the ponies were REALLY good, but I did get my butt kicked. And then, to top it all off, Saturday night I come down with a WRETCHED 24-hour stomach bug, so I can't even leave the couch on Sunday. Pam graciously rode my horses for me, and my marvelous parents and barn staff kept everything running without a hitch.
Good grief!
I am up and at'em today, just barely, but I'm not trusting myself to do anything other than nibble on Ritz crackers and sip gatorade. I'm hoping this is all just karmic redistribution, so I'm storing up bad stuff so the next few months will be ah-MAZING. That'd be great, but I'm not sure anything will be worth the nastiness of the last 24 hours... gross, just gross. Ugh.
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Think of the stomach flu as a jumpstart to weightloss...Jeanne
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