French the llama! Week 7 of 46 is over! Exclamation point! Interrobang?!
(Sorry. Obscure punctuation jokes.)
This week I did 7.63 miles in 2.374 hours, for a total of 54.56 miles in 19.289 hours. According to the great little chart at Calories Count (see below), I gained 1.6 pounds for an overall loss of 3 pounds.
I want to talk about that weird fluctuation for a second. I don’t doubt that I gained some weight back this week – it was a bad week – but I highly doubt two things: one, that I actually weighed what I reported last week and therefore two, that I didn’t lose at least a bit of weight. Here’s my reasoning: when I weighed myself last Saturday, it was after a 4.5 hour shift at work. When I’m at home, I drink tons of water all day long. I can’t do that when I’m at work. They tend to frown on having beverages in close proximity to artwork. So, that leads me to believe that when I weighed on Saturday morning instead of actual fat loss, I had water weight loss.
The blue “Weight” line is what I input every morning. It is the exact number I read off my scale. The green “Trend” line “averages out the daily fluctuations in your water weight and uncovers your true weight loss progress.” According to my weight I’ve lost 3 pounds, but according to the trend I’ve lost 4.2 pounds. I honestly have no idea to which line I’m supposed to be paying the most attention.
What I should be concentrating on is the 5K that’s coming in 4 short weeks. Yesterday I did that distance in just under an hour. I have 28 days to cut that down to 45 minutes.
I’ve been struggling for the past few weeks, first with the sinus infection, then with trying to get back up to speed. I didn’t anticipate my breathing problems to get in my way as much as they have. I have asthma so I knew to keep my rescue inhaler handy. What I keep forgetting is that I used to be a smoker. You’d think that would be fairly easy to remember, but it’s been a year. I just don’t think about it anymore. Without the constant reminder of a smoker’s cough it’s easy to forget that my lungs are still damaged. This causes more frustration than my inability to follow my training program to the letter. My inhaler does little to help me get a full breath. It can’t remove the tar that’s clogging my alveoli. It can’t rebuild the lung tissue and blood vessels that I destroyed.
I quit smoking on March 2, 2011 because I refused to turn 30 as a smoker. It will take at least another 6 years for my body to repair the damage of a monumentally stupid 12-year-long habit. I’ll be 36. That makes me incredibly sad, and incredibly hopeful. I made some painfully stupid mistakes in my 20’s but I’m working my ass off to fix them. My 30’s will be better because of what I learned in my 20’s. With that good thought, I can take the bitter memories.