Sugar. It’s strange stuff.

I’m still off of it, though I did a little fudging (not actual fudge, though that would have been nice, just a little more sugar than I should. Like a few graham crackers. That sort of thing) yesterday and today. Then tonight, at a dinner with friends, I did eat an official dessert. So I’m going back on the wagon tomorrow. Yesterday was circumstantially necessary, and today was carryover. But I’m done with all that. I have all of October and most of November to go with the sugar purge.

Anyway, (and I know I’m totally rambling), I’ve learned a few things. I’ve started craving milk. So I’ve been drinking it, and while I did notice it tasted extremely sweet, it took a few days for me to read the label and realize that regular, 1% milkfat dairy milk has more grams of sugars in it than my sweetner added soymilk.

What?

Seriously?

My body obviously knew that “there be sugar there”, because I’ve been craving milk. My brain didn’t know though. That’s so lame. So I’m curbing but not eliminating my milk consumption. I’ll still have it occasionally, as I did previously, but I’m NOT going to artificially up my drinking of milk to make up for the lack of sugar. To feed the addicted beastie. Not going to do it.

We’re trying to KILL the addict. That’s the whole point. I’m glad I’m not an alcoholic. Sheesh. I feel pathetic.

I’ve managed to exercise 4 times a week for three weeks now. That’s 2x on weights and strengthening exercises for a total of 30 minutes on those days, and 2x on the treadmill, alternating between jogging and walking, for a total of 20 minutes and 30 minutes respectively. 50 minutes per treadmill day.

I WANT to be exercising 5-6 times a week, but I’m still happy with what I’ve done. I’ve been working hard. Still haven’t lost a single pound, or shrunk out of any clothes. When I’m sweating my guts out on the treadmill, I feel very empowered, and optimistic, because there’s NO FREAKING WAY that it isn’t affecting my body in a positive way.

But when I’m not immediately involved in the act of exercise, I tend to feel frustrated, and like a big, fat cow.

On the plus side, this makes exercising a pleasant experience, feeling strong and productive as opposed to my frequent gripe of “the same. Always the same…”

So there we are. I will. not. give. up.

Ooh, ooh, and my resting heart rate was 51 beats this morning! I think it would have been in the high 40’s to be honest, which sounds kind of creepy, but it always accelerates when I’m timing it.

How was your week? Are any of our “10 pounds by December’ers” having any success?