My weight went up yesterday. Not because of extra eating now that I’m on my feet [7th Mar] but because of the extra moving I’ve been doing.
I put on some muscle mass.
Muscle weighs more than fat, so I’d rather have it.
My fat-weight’s been going down, too, according to hubby’s technoscales. And I have some nice looking graphs to show for it.
Today, I’m getting some laundry done whilst the sun doth shine. Though I do have to check the clouds now and again for signs of rain.
My heel still hurts. Less and less with the heel insert in/on. That still doesn’t stop me having “rock days” or “knife days” when it feels like treading on the aforementioned nouns. On a good day, it’s like having something round and hard lodged in one’s footwear.
On a bad day, it’s like trying to walk with an open wound.
The extra good news seems to be that my knees are behaving themselves.
You know you’re getting old when your body says “snap, crackle, pop” and your breakfast says nothing.
I should keep a look-out for my passport, but the way my feet are going, I think I’ll just pick up the “we missed you” card and collect it from the post office.
I’ve already decided that, should I need a cane, I want it to be just like Lawrence Talbot’s :) only in my size, of course.
Ah well. That’s for another day. I have a washing machine to check and laundry to put out.
