I tried to ditch my typical head-to-toe black wardrobe. Since I haven't been working full time in marketing close to NYC (our uniform? All black, funky glasses, iphone glued firmly to hand) I've been trying to wear more color. I may have accidentally taken it too far. Must practice more I guess. I totally matched the room decor. It was embarrassing.
|1 Day in Cape May NJ. When you go on an off-season weeknight, you get the best room in the house! I inadvertently dressed to match the decor. For a girl who wears all black almost exclusively, this was a strange occurrence indeed|
Anyway, this whole month has been a rollercoaster. I'm so grateful to have the best husband around. Mr. Drama has been super supportive and patient on so many levels. He's given me plenty of pulling-the-covers-over-my-head time. But also has kicked my ass into eating well and working out. I feel like he has a secret schedule in mind, and he knows when to indulge me and when to say "get outta here! You're not getting a keg cup full of ice cream" (that was at Costco, btw. My argument that it's actually frozen yogurt didn't fly).
Thanks to him and the continual pre-recorded ass-kicking I get from Jillian Michaels every day, I was feeling and looking pretty good. I got my toes all prettied up for summer, broke out a new pair of sandals, and was enjoying my flattening tummy so much I snapped some pics.
|I'm so happy I could eat a pizza. Wait, what?|
Even though Mr. Drama is taking me to task, I still managed to fling myself off the wagon. I was really happy with my progress. I took some progress pictures* too, and can see differences. My pants are sliding down my ass on the regular, and I feel (felt?) great.
*yes, I'm too wussy to share those right now. maybe in a few weeks you can see how gross I was.
I was feeling SO good, I wanted to celebrate. In hindsight, maybe I wasn't feeling so great due to all the other emo drama. Regardless of the motivation, my action was to celebrate with food.
WTF, self? Didn't you just go MONTHS convincing yourself that this kind of activity is massively counter productive?
Anyway. I indulged in buffalo wing pizza. Yep. Two terrible foods combined to make one deliciously diet-bustingly-evil dinner. Then popcorn. Enough salt and butter to make my rings tight the next day. SHAMEFUL.
One bright spot? I didn't devour the entire bowl of popcorn. In fact, I barely finished half. Still sounds shameful, but it's a BIG non-scale victory for me. For awhile there I was drowning my sorrows in buttery deliciousness 2-4 times a WEEK.So it could be worse.
This is a sign that I'm changing. My new habits are slowly but surely setting themselves into place. I felt like I was forcing the popcorn-fest because that's what I do. But my body disagreed with my head this time. It didn't want all that popcorn moving back in. Happiness doesn't come from food right now. My body has changed the locks.
Yes, popcorn, I think we're breaking up. I mean, we'll have some fun now and then...a few movies, maybe we can watch the Breaking Bad premiere together (when it finally comes back). But these booty-fattening-calls are stopping here.
The food-based celebrations and pity parties are stopping too. Walking the empty streets of Cape May with my husband, even if for a short time, was a good enough celebration for me. Sure, we ate (and drank...) but being together was more fulfilling than any meal.
I realize that if I want to have more and more fulfilling moments with the ones I love most, my health has to be a priority. So I acknowledge and accept that I was wrong to stuff my face full of feelings. And now I'm moving on...