The hardest step is to get up & out the door....

For the past three days, I've woke up swollen.
My rings are trying to suffocate my fingers and I don't like it.
My body is puffy and bloated.
Ha... what's new?
Last night, I cooked Chicken Alfredo for dinner.
I ate horrible. I did not do good and not once did I think of my weight loss goal.
UNTIL... Stephanie tagged me on Instagram with a picture of her about to run.
Shit.
That's exactly what I said out loud.
Not only did I feel bad about 1} not exercising like I told myself I would. 2}my body felt worse because didn't portion my foods. I was miserable. I hated myself for it.
I went to bed early having no thoughts on getting up in the morning for a workout.

6:00am alarm {usually to get my husband up}
I look at my fingers and I see....

I rolled my eyes. Laid my head back down. Sat up and took a picture.
My husband sits up, "What the heck are you doing?"
"My fingers are swollen and I'm gonna see if my blog friends know what I can do."
He laughs.
I lay back down. Miserable. I'm still bloated and stuffed from the night before.
That's a horrible feeling.
I start thinking about ALL OF YOU.
Get up Jess.
Then I thought of the E-Card I post on Mondays saying are you aren't get anywhere by
thinking of running.
I wanted to go back to sleep.
My husband was lazy and wouldn't get up.
I wanted to sleep.
I thought more of ALL OF YOU.
Get up Jess.
Run a loop.
Do a work-out off the TV.
I want to sleep.

Finally, I popped up - said "Get up!"
Went into the kitchen, got watermelon {my MIL said it would help my swollen-ness}
Ate a huge piece.
Aaron walks in... totally confused, calls me weird and gives me a kiss.
Finally he leaves. I get my work-out clothes on {tore the tags off from Christmas, remember?}
and went to find my shoes.

I was nervous.
I'm not gonna lie. I felt huge.
I took a picture thinking, Let's do a before and after.

Went to run out the door & saw my MIL pulling away.

I hid inside. {go ahead and laugh}

Waited.

Went to go back outside... & my SIL was driving up to my MIL house.

I hid.

Then thought, screw it. Just run.

So I did. I ran out the door, down the driveway, and to the end of the road.

I had to take two 15 second walks in between because my lungs were.. Heck I don't even know. I thought I was gonna die.

I wanted to quit.

I thought of ALL OF YOU.

Don't quit. Keep running. You aren't running very far, I kept telling myself.

You can do this.

Go to the end of the road, totally out of breath and as I turned around ...

I thought I'd never make it back home.
Truthfully, I felt horrible.
I felt as if I were going to hack up all the watermelon I just downed.
I was struggling.

15 seconds later. I started running... {more of a jog}.
This time it wasn't so hard - it seemed.
But I STILL felt so bloated and disgusting.
I made it to the front porch and wanted to lay down in our grassy yard...

I'm not laughing there. I'm breathing... hard.

I was struggling.

I DID IT!!!

It felt so good to know I finished the small run I did.

Trust me. It was no long run. MAYBE - half a mile.

I walked inside and thought, should I do a home workout?

I couldn't. Well... I probably could but I felt so yucky.

I really did.

I sat on the couch, while watching Lizzy McGuire {it was just on}

and really thought I was gonna throw up.

I actually felt good, my body did.

I really did. But then again, I did not feel good.

I struggled to get off the couch.

Finally, I ran by bath - started to think about getting for work.

Many responses from Instagram were popping up left and right.

Thank you ALL for your sweet comments. They truly help me & hold me accountable.

And before I do go, I will share something I said I would NOT do to myself...



But I did.

Why not?

I need to see the difference after all of this is over.

Well...

I think I succeeded - for today.