Falling off the wagon

I've just finished feeding myself and the dog, letting the dog out and doing a quick run-through of my snail-* and e-mail. As I type this, it's 10 p.m. and those are the only things I've had time to accomplish since getting home from work.

Like every night in the past couple of weeks, I had grandiose plans of coming home, eating a simple dinner of soup or sandwich, bundling up and going for a run. Sure, I'm bundled up right now, but only because it's super-cold in my house.

What I'm saying is, I've fallen off the healthy eating and exercise wagon.

I was doing really, really well right up to the end of October, when I hit that initial goal of 15 pounds. I had been eating right, tracking the Weight Watchers points along the way, and jogging regularly.

Now, I can't even seem to get one day right, food- or exercise-wise. My jog on Sunday was the only time I've run in three weeks. It was lovely, a chilly yet sunny day where you could smell the fireplaces burning around the 'hood. But all I could muster was about half of my regular 2-mile loop and I walked up all the hills instead of running. Sure, I'm proud of myself for doing that much at this point, but it really doesn't do me a lot good if I can't do it regularly.

I ran after dark all the time while it was hot outside, but now that the thermometer is reading in the 40s regularly, there's something inherently scarier about running at night. Maybe I'm scared of Jack Frost attacking? I'm not sure, but I do no that I'm not doing any running after I get off work.

I've also had grand plans of getting up early to run before work, but every time I think I've got my body on an early-to-bed/early-to-rise schedule, it gets broken thanks to a late night at work or visitors or what not.

Meanwhile, I've been overeating way too much and eating out too much -- which has not only been bad for my girth but that of my wallet. I mean that literally. I have gained a little bit of extra girth around my waist even though I've lost another two pounds. I'm to a weight finally where I don't care what the number on the scale says, I want those size 8 jeans I bought two weeks back at the Gap outlet to fit perfectly.

I'd like to say I'm pledging to get back on the wagon. Certainly I'm going to try, although with Thanksgiving next week and two more weeks of a hectic work schedule it may not be a realistic goal. I only have two more pounds to lose to reach my ultimate Weight Watchers goal and I'm guessing these two will be the hardest. I just don't want all those hard lessons of the past few months to be for naught.

*I got a four-page letter in the mail from Jimmy Carter. Sure, he was asking for money (I guess it's hard out there for an ex-prez). But still, he signed it Jimmy! I must be special.