I've been on a binge. I guess that means this is confession time.
I remember the days when I used to eat butter-soaked grilled-cheese sandwiches as snacks. And dunking sticks, every night, from the vending machine in college. And bagels with mountains of strawberry cream cheese for breakfast every morning. And I never, ever exercised.
That was 15-20 years ago. Since then, I've been pretty good.
But this weekend I went on a binge. It's been building for a long time. It started with the chocolate at work. And it's gone downhill from there.
Yes, even health-nuts like me fall off the wagon.
I was doing a pretty good job of avoiding the ubiquitous chocolate at work. But it never ran out--several mornings a week, the big orange pumpkin would be full again.
I finally caved. Truthfully, I've never met a bite-sized Kit-Kat or Twix I didn't like. And what's weird is that, once I've (re-)introduced my body to junk food like that, I become less and less inclined to eat my usual fruit smoothies and salads and whole-grain stuff.
So this weekend, after two weeks of nibbling, I devoured a box of Kashi Autumn Wheat cereal, ate French fries, had half a bag of Chex Sweet & Salty Honey Nut snack mix that I impulse-bought at a gas station, downed a greasy bran muffin at the coffee shop, and nibbled on a mini-bag of Reese's Pieces. Yes--not only have I been eating junk food, but I've been avoiding my usual healthy foods. Why? No idea.
And of course I haven't felt like running at all, partly due to an minor but painful injury to my baby toe, and partly because I've been giving myself junk.
Oh, I did have an apple yesterday. And a banana--in a peanut-butter-and-honey-and-banana sandwich for lunch. Aarrgghh. At least I it was on 12-grain bread.
I have to stop this ridiculousness. At the rate I'm going, I'll end up at McDonald's before the end of the week. Folks, I don't eat at McDonald's. I haven't eaten at McDonald's in years. I don't even like McDonald's.
No, I probably won't end up at McDonalds. That was just me being hyperbolic.
Anyway, I went for a run Friday afternoon and felt like someone had put water in my gas tank. Had no energy. I even got a side cramp. My stomach complained.
Then Friday night was the toenail drama, which prevented me from running in a 5K race yesterday evening--an idea I had been dallying with since I wasn't able to go to the Lexington BBQ Festival.
That's about the time I impulse-bought the Chex Mix.
So today is supposed to be a 9-mile long run. I'm going to wait until this afternoon to give my poor toe a bit more time to heal. I don't know if I have 9 miles in me. But I have to get myself back in shape. The holiday season is around the corner, and I have an unbelievably sedentary job and am working some unbelievably long hours of late. That's not a very good recipe for staying fit and avoiding Depression.
Yes. Fitness and physical health are nice side effects of a healthy lifestyle, but for me, it's mostly about avoiding Depression.
So. I'm signing up for a November 5K and a December Half-Marathon. And I may not have 9 miles in me this afternoon, but I'll go as far as I can.
There. Confession time over. Time to get back to work.