I stepped on the scale this morning.
Allow me, if you will, this snapshot of my childhood: Sunday morning, 6:55 AM, Channel 4. There was a show of a gospel group (today it would be called "urban gospel") but they did this incredible a cappella version of "Lord, I'm Coming Home." Billy Graham could have used this in his crusades, it was that good. Okay, so stepping on the scale then seeing that number, well, I needed a Billy Graham style altar call, and I started humming, "Lord, I'm Coming Home" myself.
Yeah. It was that bad. I definitely fell off the wagon but I am NOT letting it roll over me on the way out of town. I will not lie trampled in the dust and broken. I am back. This morning, it was back to my usual breakfast in the usual portions. This afternoon, I plan a healthy lunch, and a stop by the gym after work. I still feel all puffy from the weekend, so water, water, water, with ONE can of diet soda for lunch (I think I still have a Diet Rite in the office - sodium free too!).
So what happened? Simple equation, really: too much food, not enough motion. Yeah, the same old thing that got me to the place where I was in May 2006. There were other things going on, but basically, I had choices and I chose wrongly. It really is just that plain. Am I going to beat myself up mercilessly? Probably, but not to the point I usually do.
I have roughly 2 weeks until the start of monthly weigh-in season. Will I be back to my old form? I don't know. All I can do is continue the journey back and see where it takes me.
Phoenix. I will rise from these ashes, stronger and better.