back to goal, the weird way

I weighed myself this morning because that's what I do on Friday (or Saturday) morning, regardless of how I feel (although it's often pushed back a day if I know that I'm rather fullish first thing in the morning).

So, as of this morning, I'm back to my goal weight, which is a kind of mirage based in the fact that I've been sick the last couple of days and struggled to eat, oh the minimum 1440 (- 1790) recommended calories (thank you, Sparkpeople). So I know the number is off. But I haven't been puking my guts out (or puking at all, thanks), I have been pounding the water (100+ ounces yesterday), and I did eat. So I have to balance the feeling of "no credit due" with the other half of my week, which involved riding my bike to and from work (90 minutes the first day, 60 the second-- I needed help getting home because I was sicky) at a vigorous pace, journaling, making good food choices, increasing my F/V to food pyramid proportions.

Anyway, I guess I'm thinking that the truth lies somewhere between this morning's 170 and last week's "why oh why can't I take a good dump before weigh-in" 177.2.

And there I go obsessing on the messages from Milton. I know that other than this evil, hit me over the head with a polo mallet now influenza that's relegated me to the fabulous pink sofa, I had a good week. I felt solid, healthy, on track, and clear. I felt respectful of my body and its abilities and I pushed myself, which is, after all, what I must do. Even in illness, I paid myself the respect of finding foods that I could eat, that would nourish me despite my apparent (I found it very strange indeed) lack of appetite. Thank god for congee, corn thins, apples, tomato soup, rice and beans. Oh, and peach sorbet-- don't forget the peach sorbet.

So I'm not celebrating Goal this week. It's like we're still waiting for the DNA testing, and that could take up to a month. So when you see me on the Maury Pauvich Show with the caption "Goal Cheaters-- Did She Really Do It?" in a few weeks, don't turn the channel. I mean, the truth could be right there-- but I'm not gonna lift my shirt up, and nobody's gonna get a piece of me.