Saturday afternoon, post race: I just ran 9 miles! It's the weekend! I'm going to splurge a little at the grocery store. I'm picking up a half dozen cupcakes. I'm putting down a half dozen cupcakes. I'm picking them up and putting them in my cart. I'm circling around the grocery store, back to the bakery and putting the cupcakes back on the shelf. I decide to instead buy one nice cupcake at the cupcake store.
Saturday, a half hour later: I buy two cupcakes.
Sunday night: I've eaten so poorly all weekend. I'll start over tomorrow. But as it's not tomorrow yet, let me eat one last bad meal.
Monday afternoon: Kelly Osbourne looked so pretty at the Grammys. I want to look like her. I must start eating better.
Monday, 4:01 p.m.: "Don't look over there," my co-worker tells me as my eyes land on the spread of Valentine's Day treats at work. Red velvet cupcakes. Chocolate-covered strawberries. Cream puffs.
Monday, 4:30 p.m.: I eat one chocolate-covered strawberry and a bunch of cantaloupe.
Monday night: I've been staring at my co-worker's Girl Scout cookies all night. It's not too late to order some from his daughter. Do I buy some? I pick up a box and look at the calories. I could just save them for a day when I splurge. But then, that could end up being tonight knowing me.
Monday, midnight: I'm smiling, glad that I've resisted the cupcakes and cream puffs and Girl Scout cookies. I set my alarm for 7:30 a.m. to try a PowerCut class, for the first time in two years.
Tuesday, 7:30 a.m.: I step on the scale. I've gained 10 pounds since Saturday. I laugh out loud. Like I really consumed 30,000 calories in three days? I don't think so. I hate my body and my yo-yo dieting lifestyle.
Tuesday, 8:15 a.m.: I stare at my fat body in the mirror at the gym. What have I become?
Tuesday, 8:17 a.m.: Two minutes into the warmup, I realize how few muscles I must be using running/spinning because these muscles haven't been used in two years.
Tuesday, 9:00 a.m.: The fat on my body is in the way of doing this exercise. It's an ab workout but I can't even bend my body that way without the fat getting in the way. No one in this class weighs more than 130 pounds.
Tuesday afternoon: A tray of cookies arrives at work. Whatever. I'm not tempted, but it may be because I can't get out of my chair because it hurts too much, from my legs to my abs to my arms.
Tuesday night: I ate too many Weight Watchers ice cream treats. It's the curse of working the day shift and coming home and watching TV. I'm still under my calorie allotment (if you count the calories burned today) but dammit, why did I do that?
Wednesday morning: It hurts to move. The goal is to run (or walk) and then take a mid-week spin class. But I can barely type. Oh what will today bring?