Where Do Weekends Go

It seems as though we zip straight from Friday night to Sunday night. The rest is just a blur.

Everything's clicking along nicely here on the health and fitness front. Weekends aren't quite as hard since I began scheduling trainer time on Friday night. That helps keep me focused on doing the right things throughout the weekend.

Had one of those blippy moments Thursday night. I was out shopping for new pants, and I was getting very frustrated. It seems I'm between sizes and nothing fits right. Add in a minor heat wave and a lack of dinner and you get one grumpy girl. At one point, the thought that all the workout time was for nothing, since I couldn't find any pants that looked good. I had wasted my time and hard-earned money when I could have just kept on doing what I was doing and my old pants would have fit just fine. No, they wouldn't have looked good, but they FIT!!

Fortunately for me, Rational Girl came running to the rescue to set Grumpy Girl straight. It's been a freaking week of workouts--at that point there had been a total of 3.5 workouts--and I can't expect my body to transform itself overnight. Sheesh! What was I thinking? Okay, I know what I was thinking. I was thinking about poor pitiful me, who hadn't even so much as glanced at a snack cake in six weeks. The one who spent a small fortune hiring personal trainers who made her sweat and chip her nail polish on the weight thingies. That poor girl deserved a Special Dinner. One that would make her feel better. It's the same kind of thinking that has plagued every effort I've made at eating healthier.

But not this time. On the way to the car, I decided my Pants-Don't-Fit Pity Treat would be an icy cold Diet Coke--the largest one I could find. I pulled into a KFC (a safe fast-food choice since I don't eat there, except I forgot about the chocolate chip cookies which I pretended they were out of). I ordered my drink, pulled up to the drive-through window, and awaited my fizzy treat. That's when the neatest thing happened. The clerk passed me my drink and said, "Have a great evening!" I waved my money at her, and she just smiled and said, "Nah, just enjoy it!" How nice is that? I told her so, thanked her enthusiastically, and drove off before she could see that my eyes were getting all blurry. I hope she knows what a generous gesture that was. Not the free soda. That cost KFC about 12 cents. In the space of 30-seconds, that clerk made me forget about my stupid pants. All I could think about was how bright her smile was and how good she seemed to feel doing something nice for someone.

And yesterday, when I tried on more pants at a different store, I couldn't even begin to feel badly when they looked pitiful. I just kept my eyes on the future, because I know that good things--big and small--are always there waiting, sometimes in the strangest places.

Until next time...