Gag Reflex

I have been gagging on my food today. Let me tell you, the gagging isn’t caused by a threat of salmonell, the smell of pickled herring, or the dryness that comes from completely charred food.

I haven’t had a cookie in three days.

Or chocolate. Or ice cream. Or..

Yes, my body has gone into shock. If there was a microphone inside my body, this is what I think you’d hear..

EGADS! Where are the fricken cookies!!! Chicken?? Who does she think I am, Gracie Gold? This is ridiculous. I’ve been eating cookies everyday of my life. Not a thing wrong with me. If I don’t get some cookies this instant, I’ll go bang her head on the wall. Cookies!! Why, oh, Why can’t I have cookies!

Now repeat that but replace cookies with ice cream, chocolate, candy, donuts, and so on.

I wouldn’t recommend stepping into my office this week. I might barf this healthy chicken all over your shoes.

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Nope

After all my praises, I shouldn’t have counted my chickens before they hatched.
Treadmill- Broken. Permanently.

I intend to start going to the new fitness center in town.

If it ever opens!

I’m tough. I’ll run outside. Running is more important than the weather.

Weather, yes. 1 foot of snow and sub-zero temperatures in the DARK??

I guess I’ll just keep dancing in front if the fireplace.

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This is not my picture. I would love to credit you, whoever you are.

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I Need Reprogramming

I walked into my office on a Wednesday after being in Peoria for two days at a conference. Simultaneously, I flipped on the light switch and removed the purple coat my husband gave me for Christmas.

Shit.

Sitting on the credenza, just below the light switch, was the bag of Dove dark chocolate squares I purchased the week before in an impulse buy while shopping at Menards. Just before driving to work that morning, I had promised myself that today would be the day I would straighten up and fly right. Already, I was facing one of my most tempting binge foods.

But, this time, I was serious about flying right, so I enacted the One Hour Law. I am only allowed to eat one dove square an hour and none before 10 am. If I followed the letter of my new law, I would have, at most, 7 Dove squares in a day. This would be a vast improvement over my typical tendency to eat one square a minute until the bag was deplenished.

When the time came for the first square, I calmly reached in the bag, brushed aside the wrinkled foils of previously consumed chocolates and selected a piece. I nonchalantly unwrapped the foil, tossing it into the garbage can as I passed. Without much consideration, I popped the chocolate in my mouth.

It’s hard to describe the intensity of the feeling I experienced the moment the chocolate flavor coated my tongue as it melted in my mouth. I imagine it was a kin to how Edward felt the first time he smelled Bella’s blood. It was an intense physical attraction accompanied by the mental willingness to sink my teeth into every square inch of chocolate with no regard for the consequences.

Alright, the One Hour Law was going to be a little harder than I thought.

They (the diet experts) say you shouldn’t deprive yourself. It’s when you deprive yourself that you lose control. Or, listen to your body and eat intuitively because your body communicates it’s needs through cravings. If that’s how it is supposed to work then I must need reprogramming because I don’t think intuitive eating includes pushing little old ladies and children aside to get to the dark chocolate.

I’m still trying to reprogram myself but I’m pleased to inform you that it has been two weeks and there are still chocolate squares in the bag.

You know that writing about this totally means I get to eat the rest with wild abandon tomorrow, right? Preferably before lunch so that I can justify going out to buy more for my reprogramming experiment.

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Filed under Lessons learned, personality flaws

Variations On A Theme: Push-Ups

One of those good habits that I want more of is daily push-ups. Push-ups are a fantastic strengthening exercise that really benefits your whole body. Strength is pretty important when you hit that 10th mile.

Which reminds me, “This one time…at band camp…”

Wait, that’s the wrong story…(I’m notorious for starting stories off that way even before American Pie)

Wait! Band camp does actually apply here!

This one time, at band camp, we would have to do 10 push-ups if we didn’t hit the 10 yard line and stop on the tenth step. I spent many hours in the hot sun building strength (and learning to count to 10). That fall, my band friends and I were the only ones on the girls’ basketball team who could do push-ups. Marching band isn’t necessarily wimpy.

Now, that strength should have made me a better basketball player but I still only had 4 points in my entire basketball career. It’s a good thing that my objective is to be a stronger runner and not a stronger shooter.

As much as I praise the mighty push-up, I’ve grown to despise doing them. So many days, I say, “Today!” But, I’m as quick to forget to do them as I am at declaring I will do them. I need a different strategy, at least until I build up some strength.

Today’s strategy: Sun Salutations!

5 full push-ups followed by 5 sun salutations.

I thought about taking a picture of me from below in the push-up position but no one wants to see THAT face!

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Filed under exercise, running

Running Shirt

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Today’s running shirt because sometimes I need to remind myself that I can’t wimp out.

Plus, who doesn’t love a good science pun?

I had bigger plans. I planned intense running intervals. I was going to run hard until it hurt. Alas, it was not to be. It hurt alright, but it was not fast. I wouldn’t say I wimped out though so it seems that I met the plan either way.

Somehow, I managed to look happy about it all.

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Daisy Petals

Imagine me sitting in a field of daisies. I have one daisy clutched in my left hand. With the right hand, I pull each petal off, one at a time. With each petal, I alternate saying, “I am a runner…. I am not a runner.”

Each day is another daisy petal. One day, I feel like I am a runner. The next day, I do not feel like I am a runner. Each day, I fret that this will be the last petal and whether that petal will say “runner” or “not”.

I’m too competitive with myself. I am frustrated that I am not running as fast or as far as I used to go. I catch myself wanting to quit due to my disappointing lack of ability. This running thing seems so hard. It seems like I’ll never get my abilities back.

It was easier to become a runner than to rebuild a runner. When I started, I had no expectations of what I could do. As a result, every run lifted me up and my confidence grew exponentially. But, this time around, I know what I should be able to do. When I don’t reach my expectation, don’t even come close to it, it’s a struggle not to be crushed by what once was.

When we were little girls we would use daisy petals to predict if a boy “loved” us or not. Not that the answer mattered because we’d just keep picking daisies until we got the answer we wanted. I just hope there are enough daisies in my field to help me figure out if I want to be a runner or not.

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Filed under Lessons learned, running

Rewrite

Sometimes you have to ask yourself if it is more important to publish a blog post or publish a perfect blog post.

Do you know what is really important? DANCING.

Play that funky music.

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