Treadmill, Treadmill, Oh How I Hate Thee

Today we went for breakfast. We do that so rarely because it costs money and I'm trying to eat better. I used to be something we did almost every time we had a day together.  I haven't thought about it too much but this morning it sounded  like a nice idea - a breakfast date.

I had pancakes, scrambled eggs and turkey sausage. It was OK. Not great, not horrible. I drank coffee. I knew we would head to the gym after so  I didn't feel too guilty. I didn't over do it or anything, either.

Off to the gym. Dread. I wish I didn't, but I'd be a liar if I said I didn't.

My "routine" for the last few times has been 40 minutes on the treadmill at 3.0 mph with inclines at intervals. I didn't realize I'd been stepping it up until I looked at my calories burned this time:

After that, I moved to the circuit training center and went through those, concentrating on my upper body (about 20 minutes). Then stretch. All in all it takes about an hour or so for total gym time. So far I haven't spent any time on anything else. I used to alternate between the bike and the treadmill, but I also don't want to burn myself out too quickly.

Right now my schedule is 3 times per week (M, W, F). It scares me because I worry that I will get bored, or I will bun out, and then what? Burning off 500 calories at the gym helps me. I allow myself a little more to eat, and I'm getting my system going for a while. Win win.

I notice with regular exercise my skin looks better. 

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Hey, I had some people ask me about losing weight. My father in law and my grandmother. Nice. I'm still waiting for someone to ask me who isn't family, though. 

Even though my pants don't feel as loose as I'd like them too, everything else does. My shirts, jackets. It's my jeans - one particular pair, really, that still feels tight. And then there's two pairs that I swear I worse last time I was this weight, and they are uncomfortable when I put them on. That leads me to believe my fat has further migrated to my midsection (common for women as they age). I don't like the thought of that because it makes me feel old and disgusting. 

I'm sure I have polycystic ovaries, even though my doctor (who I used to think was pretty great) never responded to my questions about it. I know there's not much you can do about it, but to disregard it is pretty stupid. She recommended a nutritionist, which I never went to. If I can't drop another 20 pounds before the year end, maybe I'll consider it.