I chanted: Iwillgetupinthemorning. Iwillgetupinthemorning. Iwillgetupinthemorning.

I got up on time.

I did not go back to sleep. (Monday is easy, surprisingly.)

I left on time.

I did not freeze in the 45 degrees.

I pushed.

I coached.

I encouraged.

I praised.

I wondered where the Drill Sergeant was.

I looked for the coyote I've seen three times.

I was surprised my muscles didn't ache.

I praised.

I encouraged.

I walked for the first time in two weeks.

I breathed the cold air in deeply.

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I've lost 16 pounds in the past 7 months or so. The bulk of it was lost over the summer when I was working out on average four times a week. And the last few pounds slid off within the first month of school, with the increase in activity on a daily basis and the lack of frequent calorie consumption.

My clothes are baggy now. I have jeans from high school that I'm still squeezing into though, so I'm determined to lose a little bit more weight. My body feels better, looking in the mirror is much more appealing these days than it has been in the past. And I'm proud of myself for working so hard to make this happen.

So when I showed my mom a pair of pants that have about three inches to spare around the waist, her response threw me. "That's really great!" But it was followed with "Are you sure you're not losing weight because you're running high?"

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That's right, after LOWERING my dosage of metformin (generic glucophage) six months ago; my HbA1C went DOWN to 5.5 from 5.8.  Yes, I brought my average blood sugars DOWN by reducing my medication and increasing my cardio and strength training.  It's only a decrease of about 8 mg/dl but that's an average over 24/7.  AND I went from 2000 mg metformin to 1500 mg.   I know "they" say it can and should work that way, but I'm the first to admit I didn't believe it.  (Or that was my excuse for not trying harder).

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As a long-term volunteer at Mile 20 of the New York City Marathon, I have seen many things that runners will do, or put themselves through, to get their bodies through that distance en route to the 26 miles and some odd yards of a marathon. Blisters, cramps, and bleeding are part and parcel for the course. So are dehydration, overhydration, and electrolyte depletion. At Mile 20, most runners visiting the medical station want a quick massage or some Vaseline® before heading back out on the course. While a few runners do drop out, most of those are able to wait for the "sweep bus" to carry them back to the finish line. Exceedingly few runners who require medical aid this far along the course need to be ambulanced out.

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I am a firm believer in goals. Without striving towards something I lose focus. I need to have that bell to ring, button to push, or number to reach to motivate myself.

Currently I am working on losing 40 pounds. I put up a spot on my blog that is titled "Where's the 40?" and beneath it I post a picture of the number I am at in relation to the 40 pounds. Right now I am still in the high 30's but seeing that number motivates me. It gets me to want to make changes so that number changes, and so I will reach my goal.

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"You know," I said to The Mr. this morning as I sat on the bed putting on makeup and getting ready for work, "it's really hard to get out of bed in the morning when we're snuggling."

He smiled and I leaned over to kiss him.

"It is nice, isn't it?" he said. "But you got up and left anyway."

"Well, I wanted to make sure I got to walk this morning because I'm not sure I'll be able to go tomorrow," I said. The Mr. looked at me confusedly. "They're calling for rain. And the high is only 63. It's going to be cold and wet," I argued.

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