This morning I got up at 4:30 AM and couldn't get back to sleep. Normally I would have spent that time blogging and wasting time on Facebook, but instead I did some push ups. I went into my "Weight Room" by which I mean the "Basement" next to the "Furnace" and I lifed some of the weights I got for Christmas several years ago.
After the pushups and the weights, I felt great! I felt wonderful. I felt relaxed. I fell asleep easily and slept great for the next four hours until my sweet little boys started climbing on me.
You'd think that since lifting weights makes me feel so good and since I have them at my disposal I'd be using them all the time, right? Well...you'd think wrong. I have traditionally only used them only a few times per year. I moved them upstairs last year thinking the problem was that they were in the basement...I used them even LESS...AND I had to get all nervous because my kids were climbing on and around large chunks of steel (**crack** WAAAAAHHHH...**911**).
So I eventually moved them back into the basement.
The problem wasn't one of location. It was just a problem of using the damn things. I've been getting down into the basement at least once a week now. I'm going to try to step that up to three times per week, in addition to my usual diet.
I haven't been able to breat 224 all month, and that's my own damn fault. I've come too far to give up, now. All I need to do is lose 5 more pounds and I have my weight goal for February. That's still well within the realm of possibility.