Today's weigh in was not a happy one. I expected the results I got, but still.
Two pounds up.
Part of it I blame on the Spouse Thingy's birthday; the Boy's homemade pizza was especially good, and there was cake. And because it was his birthday week we let ourselves slide off the dietary wagon a little bit, trying out a new Chinese restaurant, and then going back because it was so good.
We balanced the increased food intake with some hellacious working out; we both Trikked quite a bit (he more than I, admittedly,) we spent a couple of days going up and down ladders as we primed and painted the kitchen, and worked our asses off doing other things around the house. We spent a day walking around Six Flags, and if we didn't get 5 miles in that day I'd be surprised.
We burned a lot of calories, a nice balance to the indulgences.
But...I've also been off my HGH for 3 weeks. We have both civilian medical insurance and military medical, and between the two things got hosed up and no one would pay for it. We sure as hell weren't paying out of pocket, not for a $1200 a month medication. The problem with not taking it is that no growth hormone circulating in my body = inability to create and maintain lean muscle mass = lower metabolism = adding body fat.
If I'd been on it the whole time, I suspect today's weigh in would have been a break-even kind of thing. And I would have whined about that, too. Because if it's not a loss, I whine.
Hold the cheese.
The insurance has been straightened out, for 3 months anyway, after which I think we go back to square one, but at least I can go back on it until then and hopefully regain some lost muscle and burn a few more pounds of fat off.
I'm pretty far behind where I wanted to be; I had hoped to hit my goal in July, but with just 3 months to go and over 35 pounds, it doesn't seem likely, not even if I kill myself on the Trikke.
Which I might.
It would be a hell of a fun way to go.