summertime sadness.

1. As of Sunday, summer is officially coming to an end. Sadness.
2. Had my regular appointment with my neurologist yesterday... I was so tired that I may have glossed over some potentially good news? I was under a serious haze of sleepiness so maybe it didn't happen exactly as I remember. She said she thinks there's still some swelling in my left eye but she wasn't definitive. And then she started talking about monitoring me over the next 6 months and then coming off the meds. But like I said, I was sleep deprived. I don't want to get prematurely excited.
3. There's a new outreach lab at the hospital where I have my appointments, which I don't entirely understand since the main laboratory where I have my blood drawn is convenient enough. I was told to go to the outreach lab yesterday... I'll be nice because I understand that it's new, but it was very badly managed. Very badly. I waited as long as my nerves were still controllable before I gave up and went to the main lab... like I should have just done in the first place. Smh.
4. My gym membership is officially reinstated on Monday. Can't. Handle. Excitement.
5. I think I'm ready to declare that my foot is good to go. It's been over four months since the initial incident and I have been kind to my body. It's time to hit it hard.

6. I had... a scare. I was embarrassed to admit it so I've been sitting on the information for a few days, but deep down I knew I wasn't doing myself any favors. I started with baby steps... saying it out loud to myself, saying it out loud to my boyfriend, saying it out loud to my BFF. And now I'm going to share it here.

I've run and/or exercised this summer fewer times than I have fingers and I let myself off the hook for the sake of my foot's health. The exercise wasn't a huge issue minus missing my favorite stress relieving activity, but what I did with the rest of my time what downright shameful. I ate... and ate... and ate. I kept making excuses for myself... Chicago is one of the best food cities in the world and I spent many, many weekends eating my way through the suburbs. And my parents... BEST COOKS EVER. And the Iowa State Fair... one of the top fairs in the country. I guess I had food #FOMO. I was eating like shit, not keeping a routine, and not exercising.

I wasn't surprised when I stepped on the scale last weekend and saw 218.0 between my toes. Not surprised, but deeply disappointed. Most of the summer my weight was hovering at or around where it was pre-stress fracture and I think I started to believe that I could eat anything. But 218? I worked so hard to break through that plateau earlier this year and seeing those numbers again damn near broke my heart.

I took the news with the seriousness it deserved and immediately changed my habits. A week later, I am beyond relieved to see the scale read 212.5.

So the goal for this weekend is to get my shit together. To remember how awful it felt to see that I had gained weight. To get back into a routine. To become the rock star that I know I am.