The 100th Mile

Yesterday I logged my 100th running mile.

I had planned to just do 4 miles, because that's what I needed in order to reach the 100 mile mark, and Emily was going to run with me. I should have known better. Emily doesn't "just do" things. She does things ALL THE WAY.

So when she said, "we'll meet at the park and run the whole way," I sort of thought she meant, "we'll run the whole 4 miles with no walking." This was enough to reduce me to a nervous wreck. I got to the park and was practicing every therapist trick I know to rid myself of the anxiety. Could I really run all four miles without stopping? I mean, really? I say I'm a "runner" but what that means is "I run a bit and then I walk a bit, and then I run a bit, and then I walk a bit." My 4:1 ratio has been my lifeline to the running world.

She pulled up beside me during my deep breathing, and when she got out of the car she said, "So we're going the whole way!" And it suddenly clicked that she intended to run the ENTIRE GREENWAY. Not 4 miles. SEVEN miles. Not run a bit and walk a bit. RUN.

Holy Crap.

So we took off. She set a nice pace, and I fell into it easily. We started talking about the stuff women talk about, and the next thing I knew I was passing the first trail head. Then the second. Before long, we were coming up on the 3.5 mile turnaround point with a great big hill. And I ran up it! We stopped at the trail head long enough to get a quick drink and catch our breath. (Very thankful that the city finally got those water fountains working! Woo Hoo!) As we started back, she asked if I wanted to walk a ways. NO WAY! I wasn't about to waste my easy "down hill" on walking! So we took off running again.

I took a quick walking break about halfway back, and she stopped at one of the trail heads to use the port a pottie. At this point I was singing God's praises for her having a tiny bladder! As we crossed the next street, I realized I was approaching the...

MOTHER LOVING HILL.

This hill feels ginormous. It's long. And steep. And terrible. I've never run all the way up it.

Until yesterday. :)

I was praying the whole way up it, but I made it. I could have thrown myself a party right then and there, but I still had another mile to go to get back to my car. We ran the rest of the way back, and it hit me that this run, where I ran almost the whole thing without my sacred 4:1 ratio, was almost easier than when I throw in the walking breaks. I don't know if that's because I was distracted by our conversation, or because it was the perfect temperature, or what...but I plan to try it again to see just how much of a fluke that was.

I still can't believe I'm a runner. Sometimes I look at my life in comparison to where it was just a small handful of years ago, and I think surely it must be two different people. I'm not at all sure how I got here.

I just know who to thank.

Crackly, Crafty Monday

Since I started running, my chiropractor has become a necessity. Luckily, he's awesome. I go every two weeks, and today he cracked my neck right nice.

His office is located very close to a Goodwill, or as E calls it "Treasure Store Number 3." (The kid gets WAY too excited about their $2.99 grab bag of old McDonald's toys.) I was looking for a lamp for our bedroom, but I guess fate was working in my favor today, because I left with a whole big bunch of treasures for less than $25.

I got E a bike to try out with training wheels for $10, two pair of capri pants for summer, a couple of tops, a lamp, a lamp shade, and a picture for the wall. SCORE! And as luck would have it, E was at his dad's for the night and the Champ was off to some sporting event with his best friend. I had the house to myself and crafting to do. Happy, happy girl.

I tackled the lamp first.

It was all 1984 before hand. But it was $2.

It didn't have a matching shade, so I found one that looked okay on it and got it for $2 also.

When I got home I sprayed it with a heavy coat of oiled bronze spray paint, glued some ribbon to the shade, and monogrammed that baby with an initial that I plan to keep for life. Not bad for a $4 investment, huh?

Unfortunately, I forgot to check and see if the lamp had an on/off switch. (Because why would I?!?!) Turns out, it doesn't. So my successful crafting is somewhat offset by my fail at functionality. This is what you call a "small victory."

Now for this bad boy. This ugly dragon fly print cost $3.

This project stemmed from an idea I saw on Pinterest. Someone had pinned a picture of a blown up envelope as a wall hanging, and I loved it. Now if only I had an old letter from someone that was meaningful to me.

And then I remembered! I've had a postcard in my Bible for the past 12 years that my Nana sent to me when I was on one of my longer mission trips. On it, she wrote the verse, "If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far sides of the sea, even there your hand will guide me. Your right hand will hold me fast. Psalm 139: 9-10 NIV. God knows no distance!! I love you, Nana"

On the address lines of the postcard (because she sent it in a larger care package) she wrote, "Sara, this scripture was on my calendar today."

Here is the original postcard.

I took it to my dad's office and blew it up 250 times larger onto a sheet of white, 11x14 paper. (Sorry about the shadow.)

I went home, spray painted the entire ugly dragonfly picture ivory. While I was waiting for it to dry, I wadded up the crisp, freshly printed enlarged postcard, then soaked it in a pot full of water and the coffee leftover in the pot from this morning. Then I went back outside and used a sanding block to distress the frame of the picture.

I let the print soak in the coffee for about 15 minutes, then I laid it out on a towel to dry. While it was still wet I tore around the edges to make it tattered. Then I used scrapbook paper and mod podge to make a matting inside the frame. I cut strips and laid them over one another so none of the edges were uniform, then I took two lighter pieces to make a center focal point. Once the coffee soaked post card print was dry enough, I laid it over the top and mod podged over the top of it.

I am really happy with the finished product.

To make this even sweeter, the picture is hanging over the same piano that me and my Nana used to sit at together to sing. Now every time I sit there, I will see God's words to me in her wobbly handwriting, and it will remind me that God knows no distance.

Fear Not

There are plenty of things I'm afraid of.

I don't do mice, even though my outside cat insists that I step over a dead one on my doorstep on a weekly basis.

I don't do fireworks. My sister burned me with a sparkler when I was a kid, and I've never quite gotten over the fear of being set on fire.

And I don't do heights. In fact, my running friend this weekend was telling me a story about running on an 18" strip of road that was flanked by a deep ravine. She said if she took one step over the wrong way she would have bit it. I almost had a panic attack just listening to her tell the story. I DON'T DO RAVINES.

There's something else I've been afraid of as I embarked on this fitness journey. I wasn't afraid to try to run. I wasn't afraid to announce that I was planning to do a half marathon. But I have been terrified of P90x. I've had the DVDs for over a month, and couldn't bring myself to open them.

It's just an overwhelming program, one I feared I wasn't ready for. But since I started running, I stopped going to my extreme kickboxing classes, and as a result I'm mushier than I was. I wanted something to supplement my running. Emily suggested I break open my DVDs and use some of them to build some muscle. I tried to come up with a good excuse to not do them. But there just isn't one.

So last night I opened the box with the intention of doing one of the DVDs today after church. I feared it would be overwhelming, and omigod it was! I lifted the lid and a book the size of the Holy Bible itself fell out into my lap. I almost threw in the towel right then and there.

And then the sermon at church today was about removing fear from our lives. So I went to walmart, got some resistance bands, and came home to do the shoulders and arms DVD followed by Ab Ripper X. (Ouch!)

And here's the thing. The concept of P90x is more than I'm ready to commit to. I know I won't do one every single day, but there's absolutely no reason I can't supplement my running schedule with some strength training. And while the concept is A LOT, the workouts are manageable. Yes they are hard, and yes my abs feel sort of like they are bleeding into my feet, but I also feel accomplished. If I am squishy, I can make a choice not to be. If I'm hesitant, I can decide to JUST START SOMETHING. If I'm fearful, I can overcome it, whatever IT might be.

I've decided that when it comes to fitness, I'm adopting a no fear policy. Nothing is off the table. If I can think it in my mind, I can choose it for my body.

And also, I sort of want this tattoo.

About 6 weeks ago I went for my first run. On my next 4 mile run, I will have logged 100 miles on my fitness journey. On that first run, I feared I would never make it.

Now my only fear is that my playlist will stop before I do.

"Too many of us are not living our dreams, because we are living our fears."

Les Brown

Flashbacks

Most of my friends are from various parts of my life. I either went to high school with them, or met them in college. Some of them I "worked with 5 years ago" or I met them in graduate school. But there's a very small handful of people in my life that are "lifers." I've known them as long as I can remember, and for the most part, they've known me since I was in the womb.

Today, I got to run my long run with one of them. She and her daughter had come to town for a weekend visit. While they only live about an hour away now, life gets busy, and we rarely see each other. We don't talk regularly, we keep up haphazardly on facebook, and our conversations usually sprout from a weird sixth sense that something is wrong. But I would, without hesitation, give her a vital organ if she ever needed it, and I know she would fight for me if I ever found myself unable to fight for myself. She occupies a thin strip of my heart in between "friend" and "sister." She's family.

Here are the four of us (me, my sister, her, her brother) circa 1985.

They used to stay with us while their mom worked, so there are lots of these tub pictures, which the girls now think are precious, and her brother is humiliated by.

And here we are in my mom's old kitchen holding the sacred cabbage patch kids. (If any of you know who this little boy is, please don't feel compelled to rib him. I'm fairly certain we threatened him if he didn't hold the doll.)

I'm wearing the red pants. And also, this should put to rest any question of where my ditsy nature comes from. I'm an original blonde!

Today we ran 9 miles together and talked about life, love, kids, and everything that comes with them. Our pace was slower due to the fact that we were so involved in the conversation. But really, when you're spending time with a lifer, the whole point is to make it last as long as possible.

I'd have it no other way.

As Flat As My Chest in Middle School

Unfortunately things haven't changed just a tremendous amount since middle school, but that's not really the point of this post.

Emotionally, I feel so flat this week.

It's like I'm living my life from behind a thin gray veil. I know what this is. It's the ugly animal, depression, rearing its nasty head. It's been intruding in my life since I was 15. On and off I've taken medication for this, and in the past few years I've been able to manage without much of anything.

My most recent regimen has been nothing more than endorphins and BenGay.

This week's blah could easily be attributed to any of the following:

10 mile run (immediate high afterwards, then three days of fatigue and/or difficulty sitting on the toilet)

I've been out of Shakeology for a week now. (Thank God it's on its way!) But I think the sudden withdrawal of all those concentrated vitamins and whatever other kinds of crack good stuff they put in there has left me a bit dull.

My hormones are...ummm.....MESSED UP. I'm hopeful my body will iron itself out with some semblance of urgency, or else you are likely to see me on the news for attacking someone with a wire hanger at the dry cleaners. (And I don't even use the dry cleaners!)

I've only gotten one good run in this week. I'm beginning to feel that daily workouts are in my near future as I have obviously built up a tolerance to the amount of endorphins one can earn with a 10 mile run.

Now, more than ever, I get the connection between my emotions and my physical body. When I treat one area well, the other seems to follow. So there are some things coming up on my calendar that I think will go a long way towards lifting this fog.

My Shakeology will be here SOON! (Yay crack vitamins!)I should get a run in tomorrow and have scheduled a long run with one of my "lifers" on Saturday. She'll be in from out of town and we are planning on some solid mileage happening that morning. There is a conversation penciled in for tomorrow with My Emily in which we are going to discuss the likelihood of me doing P90x. She's only the most inspiring person I know, so I already know how it's going to sound: "Sara, you should totally do P90x. It's awesome!"

"uh-k"

And then I'll cry for 90 days.

And if all of that isn't enough to jolt me out from behind this veil, the inaugural meeting of my new cooking club meets next week. There will be great food, smart, funny women, and alcohol disguised as something fruity.

Who needs big boobs when you have endorphins, Ben Gay, and girl time with alcohol disguised as something fruity?

Apparently, not me.

Running Rock Star

Over the past few weeks, I've had the pleasure of running my long runs with a few different running buddies. I highly recommend this to anyone trying to run longer than a handful of miles, as it makes the time/mileage pass much more quickly. As this weekend approached, I had my sights set on 9 miles, and I spent the better part of the week begging all of those women to run them with me. It was rather pitiful.

But one of them was headed out of town, one was recovering from a week long stomach bug, and two of them were severely shorthanded on childcare. I was faced with my first long run by myself. I was DREADING it.

After church, the Champ and I ate brunch at Cracker Barrel, then we headed home so he could submerge himself in March Madness and I could begin my run. I suited up and reached the first trail head by 12:30. I hooked my ear buds around my ears, started the Usher playlist, pressed the start button on my stop watch, and took off. I ran the first 10 minutes non stop and then fell into my 4:1 run/walk ratio.

I don't know if you all are aware of this, but at 12:30 in the afternoon, it's HOT. This was the hottest day I have chosen to run, and because I'm a genius I waited until the sun was directly overhead before I started. Brilliant. By the time I reached the 3.5 mile trail head (the turn around point) I was roasting. I said a quick prayer that the city had finally decided to turn on the water fountains that adorn each trail head, but they hadn't, so I turned around and thought terrible things about them for the next 1/2 mile. I passed a father and son on their bikes, a couple of teenagers making out on a bench, and a family getting their pictures taken in a nearby field.

The fifth mile was the hardest, and probably the one that I walked the most. I was really missing my running buddies at this point, because peer pressure is probably the only thing that would have kept me from falling out of my ratio into a walk. I probably walked most of that mile, until a second wind hit and I began running again. When I passed my old high school, I began arguing with myself about what my distance goal was. I had no choice but to finish 7, but with the heat, sweat, thirst, and fatigue that started to sound like all I would be good for today. But then there was this voice that came from somewhere in my gut that I don't access very often. She sounded sure of herself. Confident. Like she meant business.

"No. You can keep going."

"But I NEED WATER!"

"You can take a break long enough to get water out of your car. No excuses. Keep going. Get your 9."

"But it's so hot. I'm sort of over it today."

"Get your 9."

So I jogged up the giant hill, got back into my 4:1 ratio and decided to play it by ear. Whatever this voice of determination was, I felt fairly certain I could shut her up by the time I got back to the car. I was so. over. it.

But as I rounded the last 1/4 mile to the car, I passed the same father and son on their bikes that I had passed at the 3.5 mile trail head. The dad recognized me, gave me a big thumbs up, and grinning said, "You're a rock star, girl! Way to go!"

And then there was that voice again.

"See! You're a rock star! You can do this! Get your nine. Get some water, then turn around and keep going."

And because that little ounce of encouragement felt SO GOOD, I believed her. I ran to my car, abandoned my stop watch, grabbed a bottle of water out of the front seat and turned back around. I tried running while drinking water, which apparently I'm not coordinated enough to do. So I walked a 1/4 mile while I drank. The water was nearly hot from sitting in the sun, but it was the best water ever! I passed a trash can, tossed it in, and started my run again. I just had to go to the 1 mile marker, then turn around again to get my 9. I felt pretty good, and as I approached that sacred mile marker that voice piped up again.

"Keep going. We're doing 10."

"WHAT?"

"I don't want 9. I want TEN. KEEP GOING."

She sounded so confident....and sort of bitchy, so I kept going.

As I reached the 1.5 mile marker, I listened for her again. I guess she was content, because she said nothing. I turned around quickly, lest she should decide to speak up again, and also because that particular mile marker smells like sewage.

I walked up the big hill, then found a comfortable pace and ran to the next trail head. I had to stop due to traffic crossing the street, and my body almost shut down right there. It was like picking two bricks up off the ground to get going again, and I practically crawled across the cross walk, but as I made it across, a gust of pride swept through me and carried me the last 1/4 mile.

I almost cried when I rounded the curve and saw my car sitting there in the parking lot. It looked way too far away.

As I stretched my legs, pulled on the door handle, and blasted the air conditioning, it hit me.

I just ran 10 miles.

And then there was that voice again saying, "You did it. You actually did it!"

Only that time, she didn't sound so demanding. She sounded relieved. She sounded proud.

She sounded an awful lot like me.

Obsess-a-holic

I have a problem with moderation.

My problem is that it doesn't work.

I was fearful for a minute that it might just be me, but then I got out my googling fingers and realized that 2 out of every 3 adults in America are either overweight or obese, and over 20 million Americans are currently in treatment for an addiction. It seems to be a universal problem.

This struggle is nearly unstoppable in me. There is a predictable pattern of obsessive behavior in me that you can almost set your watch by. I can't do anything "just a little bit." I can't just "try new things." I have to go ALL THE WAY. And then I quit.

There is depressing evidence of this sickness in every corner of my house. I have untouched crochet hooks and skeins of yarn in a bag in the closet. I have soap making supplies above the fridge. I have the remnants of homemade laundry detergent in a tupperware container in my utility room. I have gallon upon gallon of oddly colored paint in the shed. I have a sewing machine in my closet. I have a juicer plugged in on my counter top, a food processor tucked away in the cabinet, and a brand new yogurt maker hidden in with the pots and pans. I rarely, sometimes never use any of them.

It's why I have done the Master Cleanse, the South Beach Diet, the Dr. Oz YOU diet, the veggie soup diet, and a prolonged juice fast.

And sadly, it's why I was all about clean eating when that juice fast was over but have had to "start over" at least 10 times since.

I realized something while I was running today, and I'm not sure how I feel about it yet. Food and fitness are different from trying new little craft projects and hobbies. I can start quilting and then quit. I can try to sew and decide it's not for me. I can hop on the DIY bandwagon and then hop right off when I decide it's easier to just go to Kroger and buy some freakin' yogurt and laundry detergent.

And all of those things, even if I stick with them, have a definitive end point.

Food and fitness doesn't end. It's not a diet, it's a lifestyle. It's not losing pounds, it's being healthy. This isn't something to treat as an obsession, because it's never going to be "finished." Once I lose the weight I have to maintain it. There will always be another level to get to.

This realization made me understand that I have to continuously challenge myself. I can't quit, because this isn't about finishing something. It's about living my best life. Some days I don't want to go get gas, but I do it anyway because it makes my life better to not get stuck on the side of the road. I have to get my mind committed to food and fitness the way it's committed to going to the store, fueling my car, working, loving, and breathing in and out.

It doesn't need to have rules and restrictions. I'm not "on a diet." I'm living my best life. I MUST WRAP MY HEAD AROUND THIS.

This is a journey that has no end point, no destination. It's JUST about the journey.

And I refuse to find myself stranded on the side of the road.

(But I sort of hate not knowing where I'm going.)

New Again

There's a song that I heard one year around Easter that Brad Paisley and Sara Evans sing together. It's called "Making All Things New" and if you haven't ever heard it, go HERE.

This is happening in my life.

It's hard to adequately explain the depth of this if you haven't been traveling alongside me in the past few years. But God is making everything in my life - from meals to marriage- new again.

I have been given the beautiful gift of a new beginning. It's happening in my marriage to the Champ. It's happening in my mothering to E. It's happening every day when I lace up my shoes and run out the door. I'm learning more and more every day just how much God works all things to the good of those who love him. Because of this, there are new opportunities, new relationships, and fresh starts.

It's easy for me to get down on myself. I'm my own worst critic. When I flake out on my diet or don't get my runs in, I feel like a failure. I find these same feelings of shortcoming in my marriage, my work, and my parenting. But I was reminded today that it doesn't matter how wrong I get it, because Jesus long ago got it SO RIGHT. He is making things new again, and again, and again, and again.

Breakfast: Shakeology Shake with almond milk and peanut butter (290)

Lunch: Hibachi Shrimp and Chicken with mixed veggies-no rice (370)

After lunch I ran 8 miles with a friend which earned me an extra 871 calories. I was starving by the time I got home, so I ate ALL of this:

2 pieces of my mom's homemade pizza

leftover couscous with steamed veggies

1 banana

(715)

When I hit the publish button on this post, I'm probably going to go have a bowl of sugar free pudding. (90)

According to myfitnesspal I could eat 650 more calories today and still not blow my diet. Maybe I'll eat two bowls.

And thank baby Jesus, tomorrow is another new again day.

Going, going, gone

1270 calories goes QUICK.

It makes me sad.

Breakfast: Shakeology with peanut butter (280)

Lunch: sushi (I split a California roll, spicy tuna roll, spicy salmon roll, and crunchy shrimp roll with the Champ.) (600)

Dinner: Whole wheat couscous (roasted garlic and olive oil flavored) with sauteed veggies (spaghetti squash, broccoli, mushrooms, red peppers, and zucchini) with Parmesan sweet potatoes (400)

I'm already 10 calories over my daily limit and I know I'm going to want to snack on something later. Maybe I don't really want to lose weight after all.

Planning to run 8 miles tomorrow.

I might die.

Will Run for Treats

I'm torn between thinking I'm doing awesome and thinking I'm doing terrible. On the one hand, I ran over 4 miles today, which myfitnesspal tells me burned 480 calories. Awesome.

On the other hand, The Champ is en route as I type this to get Sonic Blasts for dessert.

I didn't do too hot yesterday. I did good for the first part of the day, but then I had to drive at night, in the rain, downtown, and by the time I made it to my friend's house, my body was begging me for carbs and alcohol. I had to give in. We went to dinner and I ate a healthy meal of grilled chicken and broccoli. (With a side of 2 rolls, spinach and artichoke dip, and a "skinny lemon drop.")

If I do good today, it will all balance out right? That makes sense in my head. Right?!

Today, I used myfitnesspal to log in ALL of my food. It was annoying, but also helpful. Because of my run, I was able to build in 480 calories to my daily allotment. If I stick to the plan and only eat half the blast, (which is all I can handle anyway) I'll still be a couple hundred calories shy of my daily target.

Who says you can't have treats in life?

Breakfast: Shakeology Shake made with water and 1/2 a banana (182)

Lunch: Open faced (turkey) bacon with tomato and 1 tsp mayo, 1 baked sweet potato with light butter, and 1/2 c. fresh pineapple (390)

Dinner: Whole wheat pasta with pesto and chicken breast and Parmesan blend cheese, 1/2 c. green beans.

4 oz Moscato....because it's Friday and I can. (620)

Dessert: Half...(Hear that, self? HALF) a Snickers Sonic Blast (340)

(Did you know there were 680 calories in a regular snicker's blast?! Ouch.)

Daily Total: 1537

(213 calories less than my daily goal. Running totally saved my diet today.)

Screaming for Ice Cream

I am so mean when I want sugar and am suffering through terrible self deprivation. It's as if my entire vocabulary is built on a foundation of insults that can be conveniently placed in front of the word "head."

Detoxing does great things for my body, but apparently the process causes me to revert to being five.

Sometimes I just want something cold and creamy, and I'm sorry but Greek yogurt just doesn't do the trick for me. I decided to come up with something that would take care of my ice cream craving without packing on the pounds again.

This is PERFECT. And get this: 140 calories per yummy serving! (Plus a serving of fruit!)

It's just 1 frozen banana (about 6 inches long)

1 TBSP Sugar free, fat free instant pudding mix ( I use a mixture of chocolate, butterscotch, and cheesecake. Just dump them together in something tupperware and shake up!)

1/4 c. (maybe even less. I don't measure things) almond milk

I toss the frozen banana in the microwave for about 20 seconds and it peels pretty easily. Don't over thaw! Throw together in a blender and voila! This takes care of my sweet tooth, my cold tooth, and my creamy tooth. (If you're not concerned about calories, a little peanut butter is good in there too!)

I'm only one spoonful in, but my pleasing personality is already making its way back. My family can rest easy.

I Dunno, mkay?

I have no idea how many calories I ate today, mainly because my lunch didn't come with nutrition facts or measurements or any kind of helpful information at all. It WAS healthy though. You know, because I'm a bad ass.

Breakfast: Shakeology Chocolate Shake (yes, again.) With water, ice, and peanut butter (250)

Lunch: Whole Foods environmentally responsible container FULL of broccoli, sweet potatoes, couscous, and some kind of chicken. (I'm going to go with 350. I have no idea if this is even remotely close. Ask me if I care.)

Snack: Clif Bar (240)

Dinner: Spinach tortilla wrap with turkey, mozzarella cheese, and tomato, with a side of pineapple and strawberries. (500)

(I promise I intend to mix it up here soon and add some different foods. It's just that my schedule during the early days of the week includes early mornings and late nights and sometimes awkward eating times.)

Total: 1340

No run again today.

Wanna know how I know I've crossed over from "trying to be a runner" to "actual runner"? I saw a girl running down the sidewalk today as I pulled into the office and I was JEALOUS.

I know. It surprised me too.

Counting Calories Sucks...IT SUCKS.

I do not like it. It makes me cranky. It also makes me hate any woman who is able to eat carbs and still have thighs that do not touch. That is unnatural. Unnatural and wrong.

Ultimately I want to just know that if I eat healthy stuff and work out then that's all I can do. I'm doing that. I won't food journal forever. But I'm so right there with my eating and fitness. I sort of have a grip, but could lose it if the wind blows the wrong way...or I sneeze.

So here it goes.

Breakfast: Shakeology Chocolate shake, made with 1/2 almond milk, 1/2 water, and 1tbsp of sugar free pudding mix. (220)

Lunch: Spinach tortilla turkey wrap with part skim mozzarella cheese, broccoli, and mushrooms, Greek Goddess dip, fresh pineapple and strawberries. (550)

(Greek Goddess dip is my combo of ff plain Greek yogurt, fresh dill, cilantro, basil, and mayonnaise. Roughly 30 calories per tablespoon)

Snack: medium banana (90)

Dinner: whole wheat angel hair pasta with steamed veggies and Parmesan cheese (350)

Total: 1210

Couldn't fit my run into today. I actually miss it. Probably won't get one in until Friday. Yuck.

So It's Come to This...

In an effort to get my grip back on the healthy eating wagon, I've decided to journal what I eat for the next few days. I've had several people ask about how I'm eating post fast, and since I apparently can't handle even the tiniest little indulgence without losing my sanity, I figure it will help me stay focused. Fair warning, these posts will likely drive everyone who isn't me completely nuts. I'm sorry that my blog has come to this, but it's necessary.

I have an addictive personality. I dive into things with everything I have in me. Sometimes it works out okay. Other times it results in me saying phrases like, "I liked my second divorce attorney better, because he wore a kicky bow tie."

Anyway...

Breakfast:

Shakeology made with 1/2 c. almond milk, 1/2 c. water, 1 tbsp natural peanut butter and ice. (320)

Lunch:

Steamed broccoli and mushrooms with small bay scallops, roasted Parmesan sweet potatoes, and fresh pineapple. (375)

Snack:

Oatmeal Raisin Clif Bar (yum!) (240)

Dinner:

Shakeology Chocolate shake with peanut butter (320)

Plus 3 pieces of turkey bacon because the Champ was cooking some for his lunch. :) (75)

Total daily calories 1330

Exercise: Ran 3 miles (-320 calories)

Two Things:

1. I don't normally do Shakeology twice in one day. I just didn't want to fix anything after a late night at work.

2. Is it just me or did those calories add up QUICKLY??? No wonder I was so chunky.

Revenge of the Toxins

Y'all, I have flat out poisoned my body today. And also some yesterday.

And I was doing so good!

Yesterday, I ran 7 miles with my friend. I probably burned like 700 calories during that run. Because I'm AWESOME.

And then I just took a big proverbial crap on all that hard work.

I came home, had a Shakeology shake, and then chased it with 12 whole inches of subway sandwich. Then later, I went to a welcome home party for my "not my niece" where I ate three cupcakes. They were miniature, but still. I could actually feel the sugar surging through my body. It was like I had finally rehabbed my cells from the evil clutches of the powdery white stuff, and then I sent them right back into the crack house.

THEN, I went on a sushi date with the Champ, followed by a piece of cheesecake and some kind of Oreo cake thing that tasted like what Heaven would taste like if it was fudgey and covered in crushed up Oreos. Then there was wine. Times 2.

And that was just YESTERDAY.

TODAY WAS WORSE.

I started the day with my shake. But then a bunch of us went to eat Mexican after church, and the wagon flat ran me over with chips and salsa and fajita taco salad. Then, to top it all off, a girlfriend came over and we ate pizza.

WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH ME?!?!

Here's what I know:

Eating CRAP makes me FEEL like CRAP.

Eating HEALTHY makes me FEEL HEALTHY.

I love myself when I eat good stuff.

I loathe myself when I don't.

So why is it so stinkin hard to leave the cupcakes alone, skip the cheesecake, have a salad, or say no to social eating? Because none of it, NONE OF IT, was worth feeling this way.

You would think simply staying on the wagon would be easier than hauling your mangled, chubby butt back onto it again, yet here I am going to bed with the resolve that tomorrow I will be good to myself.

Tomorrow there will be water. And vegetables. And things with vitamins and omega 3 fatty acids in them. And running. Oh Lord, help me, there will be running. (And there needs to be more blogging. Accountability!)

It took me two days to poison myself with sugar and carbs. It will likely take me 4 to detox again. The wine and cheesecake were so not worth it.

I'm reminding myself that I AM.

"Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.' " Mary Anne Radmacher