Sunday, November 13, 2011

wrong way on a one way track

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:

penso's pizza. my favorite. i can't tell you the last time i had it. august, september. but i can tell you the last time i thought about it: every single day since i started my reboot.

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....

for the cupcakes that have been in there waiting for me since september 17th. that's when we had the birthday party for my mom where i went without cupcakes, but froze some for "after" my reboot. i have said no to cupcakes MANY, MANY times since then. but tonight i said yes, yes, yes! literally, i said yes three times. i had a chocolate one, a strawberry one and a carrot one. that's right, i had three cupcakes after three pieces of pizza.

i was miserable. physically and emotionally. i went to hide in my bedroom. my brother came to check on me awhile later and found me guilty and miserable, wanting to die. he told me to stick my finger down my throat and get over it. so...i stuck my finger down my throat, but i'm not over it. what the hell is wrong with me? eat like a pig then put on "a very special episode" of an 80's TV show about bulimia in my bathroom? good lord.

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??? an asshole.


  1. You are NOT an asshole - you are normal, honest and great. It happens - we sabotage ourselves. The most amazing part of your day and this post is that you packed your bag. You are ready to not let a mere 12 hours change your course. So - to answer your question "what is wrong with me?": Absolutely nothing. You are normal and smarter than most. Thank you for sharing your journey!

  2. thank you, what a wonderful comment! i appreciate it.