Day 3: Apparently, Resting Is Part of the Plan
Apparently today was a rest day.
Which feels slightly suspicious considering I only just started.
But according to the programme — the programme that I wrote, may I remind you — today my body gets to recover.
No gym.
No interval cardio.
No torturing muscles that had peacefully remained dormant for several years until I rudely woke them up on Monday.
Just rest.
But I’ve also realised that having a rest day doesn’t mean completely abandoning the other disciplines I’m trying to put into place.
So, today I still ate well.
Had some fruit.
And had the same chicken and baby spinach salad from yesterday.
Partly because it was actually really good…
And partly because that baby spinach needs to be finished before it becomes as limp as my legs were yesterday.
We’re reducing food waste here, people.
Very responsible.
Then the PCOS Fog Arrived
Today was also the day the brain fog and fatigue decided to make an appearance.
Although, in fairness, I don’t think I can blame PCOS entirely for this one.
I had approximately 4.5 hours of sleep.
Why?
Because Hubby and I somehow ended up sharing our bed with:
3 children.
And…
2 of our 4 dogs.
At some point during the night, I became vaguely aware that Hubby and I were each clinging to opposite edges of the mattress while the children and dogs occupied approximately 97% of the available sleeping surface.
Think Jack clinging to that door in Titanic.
Except there were two Jacks.
And Rose was three children and two dogs.
There was room.
Just apparently not for us.
So yes.
The brain wasn’t exactly firing on all cylinders today.
Some cylinders weren’t firing at all.
I’m not entirely convinced they were even installed.
My Legs Have Forgiven Me
The good news is that my legs are starting to feel somewhat normal again.
They’re moving.
They’re bending.
Getting out of my office chair no longer requires a motivational speech and a carefully calculated launch angle.
Progress!
Little do they know…
Tomorrow is full-body day.
Shhhhh.
Nobody tell them.
It’s different from Day 1, obviously.
But they’ll still be receiving some attention.
They’ve had their little break.
Tomorrow we renegotiate their employment contract.
Apparently, Healthy Food Doesn’t Have to Taste Like Sadness
After work, Hubby and I walked to our local Spar to grab some supplies for supper and find a little more variety for my meals.
And this is where I realised something.
Having someone in your corner makes a massive difference.
Hubby patiently stood there checking labels with me, pointing out better alternatives and helping me figure out combinations that didn’t require me to spend the next four weeks eating food that tastes like sadness.
Because that’s important to me.
I like food.
Like… really like food.
I don’t want to spend the next month staring sadly at a piece of boiled chicken and three lettuce leaves while pretending I’m having the time of my life.
And thankfully, I don’t have to.
But more importantly, throughout all of this, I’ve had someone next to me saying:
“Babe, you can do this. It’s going to be hard, but I’m here. Take it day by day.”
And that changes things.
I’ve started and stopped this journey so many times before.
I’ve been motivated.
I’ve lost motivation.
I’ve seen results.
I’ve plateaued.
I’ve thrown in the towel.
But having someone beside you who understands what you’re trying to do — and reminds you why you’re doing it when your own brain isn’t cooperating — makes it feel a little less overwhelming.
Hubby Took Over Dinner
He also offered to make supper tonight.
And instead of making something separate for me, he got the whole family involved.
Tonight’s menu:
Air-fried chicken.
Greek salad.
And…
Garlic bread.
I did not eat the garlic bread.
I smelled the garlic bread.
I watched the garlic bread.
I may have formed an emotional connection with the garlic bread.
But I did not eat the garlic bread.
Instead, I sat there inhaling that glorious garlicky aroma while quietly reminding myself that I had made a choice.
Was I slightly sad about it?
Yes.
Did dinner still taste delicious?
Also yes.
It was light, fresh and satisfying, and afterwards I didn’t feel overly full, uncomfortable or bloated.
Which actually felt really good.
Still thinking about the garlic bread though.
And That’s About As Exciting As Day 3 Gets
I do apologise that today’s instalment isn’t quite as dramatic as yesterday’s treadmill betrayal.
But it was a rest day.
And after approximately one million:
“Mommy, why does this happen?”
“Mommy…”
“Mommy…”
“Daddy…”
“Why is the cucumber cut like that?”
“Mommy…”
“DADDY!”
I think we can safely call it a night.
Well…
I thought we could.
Because I’m currently lying in bed writing this, approximately an hour after bedtime, and I can still hear little voices having full-blown conversations elsewhere in the house.
Apparently bedtime is merely a suggestion.
Day 3: Done ❤️
Today left me a little more appreciative of having functioning legs.
A little more appreciative of the man standing beside me checking nutritional labels in Spar.
A LOT more appreciative of my bed.
And somehow, even more ready to tackle Day 4.
Tomorrow we go full body.
My legs don’t know yet.
Please don’t tell them.
And I don’t think I even need to address the plank situation today.
Obviously no planking occurred.
It was a rest day, people.
Besides, my brain spent most of today being about as useful as a plank anyway.
Surely that counts?
Day 3: Complete.
Legs: functioning again.
Brain: unavailable.
Garlic bread: deeply missed.
Children: apparently not sleeping.
Plank: technically observed in spirit.
Apparently, We’re Doing This. ❤️
About the Author
