Thursday, December 30, 2010
I'm in the danger zone. For me the danger zone is the gray area between getting back on track and actually being back on track. In the danger zone all I can think about is food. I'm not hungry. Not even a little bit, but the four left over meals I pre-prepared are calling out to me. Their siren songs are messing with my brain. The six glasses of water I drank to keep my mind off food aren't even dampening the call of the fridge. I'm up four pounds in two weeks. Stress, holidays, rain, excuses, and rampant sodium intake have pushed me back to 228. I know that isn't realistic. In two days I will be back around 226, but right now 228 makes me miserable.
I have resisted the urge. No, scratch that, I will resist the urge to eat and eat until I am uncomfortably full. I am miserable when I overeat. I hate it. It doesn't make me feel better. It makes me feel worse.
I am worth more than the momentary satisfaction of food. A healthy life style will last so much longer that temporary euphoria of consuming and continuing to over-consume.
I think I'll go let Jillian kick my ass a little. My kettle bells from Christmas look a little to new anyway.