But on my way home today I've had a realization that I hope happens again - it may be all that gets me through.
My body has done more for me than I can ever imagine, and I should be...no I am...proud of what I've done so far. It hasn't been very long but I need to "celebrate the wins" as I've been told in a past life. I ripped my legs apart at my Friday training, limped around like a 99-year-old woman with two replaced hips on Saturday, played some serious Tag with three boys on Sunday, ran five and a half miles on Monday and did deadlifts for a half an hour tonight.
I'm exhausted, but absolutely proud of what I've done in the last four days. There's a long way to go, and some serious poundage to lose. But damnit, I'm proud of myself!