if i could set this entry to music, it would be "runaway train" by soul asylum. that's what i have been all weekend, and i finally crashed tonight. this blog entry is the hardest i've had to write since right after my first new york trip. i am ashamed.
it started with my cold. i woke up saturday for zumba feeling like total crap. i could barely talk, my head hurt, my chest was congested. i went back to bed and slept until noon. i spent the rest of the day trying to decide if i could or should go to the gym. i probably could have made it, but i let my cold be my excuse. that night i took my nephew to see a show at the performing arts center and the whole time i thought about taking him to applebee's after the show where we'd get giant chocolate chip cookie ice cream sundaes. i kept thinking "he doesn't know i'm on a diet, he won't know i'm doing wrong." after the show he asked if we could go to dairy queen instead. divine intervention. we went through the drive thru and he got ice cream, i got nothing.
as the night got later, i started to feel worse again. coughing, sneezing, icky. around midnight i made a can of healthy choice chicken noodle soup. not a TERRIBLE choice, but not the best. i had spent the day grazing on things i wouldn't normally eat, like a lean cuisine beans and rice entree and some graham crackers. processed crap. i didn't have any "good food" in the house, and didn't feel like going to the store. around 1am i drank my tea and went to sleep promising myself today would be a better day.
but i spent most of the night coughing, tossing, turning. i slept until noon again and woke up feeling sick, tired, bored, empty and deprived. i could feel the wheels coming off of my diet. i made up my mind that i WOULD go to zumba at 4, even if i didn't feel well. i ate some natural peanut butter on sprouted grain bread to get some energy. then an hour later i had another can of soup and 2 graham crackers. the runaway train was picking up speed.
around 3:30 the devil on my shoulder started speaking more forcefully. he told me i deserved a break. that i was sick and should let myself be lazy. that i'm not on a deadline, that gaining a couple of pounds wouldn't be a big deal in the long run, that i can take them off easily with hard work this week. 4pm zumba time came and went, and i was in my bed watching shallow hal on comedy central. my parents left for the night and i felt like i could really get away with something, because i wouldn't have my mom here to say, "are you sure you want to do this?" the devil took over. i went upstairs and my brother had made peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. he told me i wasn't allowed to have one, so i waited for him to leave the room before i stuffed two into my mouth. full steam ahead.
i asked him what he wanted for dinner. i offered to pay for whatever we decided on if he would go get it, already knowing what i wanted. 35 minutes later the train crashed into this:
i had three pieces. they were hot, ooey, gooey and delicious. every bite was topped with cheese, olives, onions, mushrooms and guilt. that's right, i couldn't just get lost in the decadence, i felt like i was stabbing myself in the eye with every bite, yet i kept going. and then when my brother went into his room, i aimed the train for a cliff...straight toward the freezer....
so i think that i have learned a lesson. at least i hope i have. i drank my tea, i packed my gym bag, and i'm ready to get back to my real life tomorrow. i don't care how sick i may be, i WILL be on a treadmill tomorrow. and i think there's a zumba class at the hospital in the evening i can attend, too. i'm so upset with myself. nothing i ate today made me feel better--it in fact made me feel so much worse. it didn't entertain me. it didn't feel like a reward. it felt like i was punishing myself for succeeding. "oh, you're in the 180's now? well i'll fix that! kablam! you're 195 again overnight!"
what is wrong with me???
i....am an asshole.