Determined To Succeed

Happy almost Christmas and day one-hundred-thirty-five, and I must say it’s a weird one.

Last night, actually extremely early this morning, I got up to watch the full lunar eclipse. We here in North America were lucky to be able to view the full lunar eclipse so I figured “what the hell,” it was was the last chance for those of us in the continental United States to see a total lunar ecllipse until 2014. It was gorgeous. The moon appeared a burnt orangish/red, although I didn’t catch any of the meteor shower that was supposed to have coincided with the eclipse (also rare because the eclipse happened on the same date as the 2010 winter solstice. The last lunar eclipse to happen on the day of the winter solstice was in 1638).

Why mention a celestial event on my weight loss blog? I have no idea. It’s just something I wanted to share with you guys because that event is what officially started my day. This event concluded a topsy-turvy and emotional weekend in which I heard about a friend of mine who also landed in the hospital, the birth of a child to a friend’s sister, finding a small keychain that was very, very similar to one I had been given by my mama many, many years ago that almost made me cry and a couple of other things that made my emotions go up-and-down. And kids, what do we all know about Bill? I am an emotional eater.

I have always told you I will come clean about my eating and weight ups-and-downs and I am doing just that. I ate poorly this past weekend. I ate way too much and my weight has suffered, although (thank God) not too badly. Hell, I even made a batch of (delicious) peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies (what was I thinking) and had some tortilla chips and queso watching the Chicago Bears sucessfully clinch their 2010/2011 playoff chances (awesome job, guys! Bear down, Chicago Bears! Make every play pave the way to victory…)

Sorry, got off track a bit. Where was I? Oh, yeah. My poor emotional eating this past weekend. Ugh. I feel heavy today. I didn’t sleep right (no duh since eating chips, queso and cookies) and I absolutely have to get back on track. I just admit I am a bit off. There are days I feel every minute of my newly-achieved 40 years (thanks to a daily dose of metamucil and iron pill) and there are days I feel youthful (and yes, I always will). It’s just a weird time and I need to NOT eat when those weird times happen. Eh, I just think the realities of life are just hitting me – that something seriously could have gone wrong for me in the hospital, that I am now 40, and yes, that I still miss my mother, JoAnn Larson, deeply.

So even though today is Tuesday I will start my week by trying my best to shake off this “blah” of mine, work out, eat better and get mentally fit. Gaining back a pound is not the end of the world (I am back up to 248.8 today) and I will be getting up and working out in just a bit. heck, I may even workout twice today. nah, that’s being a little too OCD about it all. And I should get out. Not only do I have to mail my Christmas cards I should get out and enjoy some fresh winter air.

Well, that’s my story today and I’m sticking to it. Me and my metamucil. maybe I would feel a spot better if it snowed a bit before Christmas. I always like when it snows just before or on Christmas. As long as I can stay away from the cookies I made I will be OK no matter what. Have a great day everyone. Talk to you tomorrow.

Day three.

I don’t quite know how to describe what fear feels like but I will do my best. I am standing in front of a mirror and can finally see the person I have become and, for the first time in my life, not knowing who I am but knowing I have to find myself again on a path I’ve never traveled before.

There are many other ways to describe fear but that’s the one that is most prominent right now. I said to you all the other day it really feels silly to talk about weight loss, too, in all of this but they can and do go hand in hand. Like when I am really fighting the urge to grab an ice-cream, or a Coke. I have always been an emotional eater and since I am truly admitting to myself how messed up I can be AND not running away from it I also have to admit that. I have been fighting the urges to eat and drink those bad things.

I can tell you all there is an old Bill and a Bill who wants to be a new Bill. I have lived so long with the old Bill that it’s immensely foreign to be looking at a stripped down and bare Bill, one that is trying to be a new Bill for the first time in his life and not wanting to fuck it up. That is fear. And it’s also a fear to do something I have never done before – tell the complete and honest truth. That contains fear. It is an unknown land and I am walking in it for the very first time.

When you’re afraid your heart beats harder and faster, your breaths get shallow, your adrenaline pumps and you become hyper-aware of sensory things – things you hear, your mouth going dry, etc. That is how I am living these days, but I do so very much want to be that new Bill. That also means suppressing the urge to run away and to hide and, yes, to hide with food. I just have to keep reminding myself that the empty pit in my stomach these days comes from fear and having to finally face life and reality not from actual hunger.

I mentioned yesterday how stupid I felt even bringing movie lines into my blogs these past couple of days but there is a movie quote that is very appropriate. It’s from the 1982 Ridley Scott movie “Blade Runner.” In that film Harrison Ford cowers in a corner on a rooftop after having been pulled from its ledge by Rutger Hauer’s character, an android who simply wants to not die (androids live only four years in their world). Ford doesn’t understand why a person, who just tried to kill him, would save him from falling to certain death and is given a lesson in living in fear.

“Quite a thing to live in fear. Isn’t it?” Hauer says to Ford before dying. Ford then gives voice-over about how he thinks, in the last moments of his life, Hauer realized the gifts of life and how that made him value life in the end.

Fear can make you do that, too.

I have told lies upon lies upon more lies in my life and have always lived in fear. Fear of being found out. Fear of people laughing at me, ridiculing me, realizing I was not who I said I was and, most of all, fear of not being liked by everyone. Believe me when I say there are so many people out there in this world, me included, who claimed and claim they don’t care what people think, but they delude others and themselves with that lie. But I admit it now. I did care what people thought, from as far back as when I was a kid, and that is when my path of lying started, leading me to this very point in time. This crossroad. This empty path in front of me that is scary because it contains the one thing I have never done in my life – tell the truth.

Don’t ever be afraid to admit you want to be liked. We all do. There is no shame in that. Fuck, that’s a human thing to feel. We all want to be the perfect one, the one who people look at and have them say “that person has it all together.” But if you don’t admit that to anyone or only tell it half-way like I used to then you will one day suffer the same catastrophic failures I’ve suffered.

Whether or not your situations deal with food or not I can now tell you from recent experiences that lying gets you nowhere and leaves you bankrupt and empty. It makes you live in fear, constant and inescapable fear. I am trying very hard to be that new Bill, but that comes with a new fear, too, and I am scared. I don’t ever want to be old Bill again (and yes, that does include the 400 pounds that also came with that baggage). I want to be new Bill, but it will take time and work and moving in a direction called truth. And I will get there. That road may be scary and dark and uncharted but it is my new path and truth, honest-to-goodness truth, is the light that will lead the way.

Last night I couldn’t get to sleep.

You know how you get when things weigh on your mind to the point where all that energy is what’s fueling you? Sort of like an old steam-powered train whose engineer is shoveling coals into the fire. Well, that’s what happened to me last night. I had been waiting for a piece of news all day…and waiting…and waiting…and waiting. And finally, when it was apparent it would never come my mind took over, threw more coals on the fire and kept us (my mind and me) up pretty late.

I know this is going to sound bad but much of why I was up had to do with Coke, also. Not to disparage the greatest soft drink (pop) in the whole world but not having it for the past few days – and subsequently having it all out of my system – meant that when I did have it yesterday all that caffeine and sugar got into my system adding more coals to my engine, heating it up and keeping the train moving.

I so wish I could figure out why I am an emotional eater/drinker. And before you start to worry not drinking in terms of booze. Drinking in terms of Coca-Cola. I wish I could figure out what triggers in the minds of big people like me makes food a viable option when it comes to those pesky demons that come for you – especially late, late into the night.

Hurmph.

If I could figure that out I’d be a rich, rich man. I’d also be back at my goal weight and then some by now. I’d not still be fighting the battle of the final ten over a year after my sweet mom died. I’d find it much easier to resist the liquid joy of an ice-cold Coke and not give in to it’s delicious yet empty calories. Oh, and if I could figure that one out I’d also figure out how to extract the unstoppable energy of a child (or find a way to activate that part of an adult brain) so I could add that to the mix. Then I’d be super-duper rich. Like Bill Gates or Warren Buffet rich. No more emotional eating combined with limitless energy? Shit. That would be awesome.

But as my man, Jules, in “Pulp Fiction” says “that shit ain’t the truth,” and there is no such thing as abundant adult energy and there is a such thing as emotional eating. And while I can’t just yet share with you guys the exact reason for this sort of morose weekend blog post please know I take this feeling for what it is – a set of rain clouds that have gathered up in my mind causing it to rain, just like it is today here in southern New Jersey. But like all rain, it will pass and the day will be sunny again (and hopefully not as freaking hot as it has been this past week – when 90 degrees is “cool,” look out).

As for my workout yesterday I did great. I did almost all of what my sensei taught me (although somehow the stretches seem to work better when doing them in class) and I worked up quite a sweat yesterday. And I plan to do the same today in the rescheduled class. Although working out with others is a new aspect of things so I hope I don’t embarrass myself too much in front of others.

Well, that’s all for now. Sorry it couldn’t be a bit more cheery but all will be revealed on Monday. Promise. Until then I will make sure I work out and NOT eat my weight in Chinese food, Milky Way bars and Cokes. After all, the good thing about staying up until all hours of the night thinking about stuff is that all the food places are closed.

See, in every cloud – even rainy ones – there is a silver lining.

You ever have one of those days where the wind is taken out of your sails? Yesterday was like that for me. I am doing my best to keep this weight off and I gain some back. I send out a small business contest entry only to find out I was not selected as a finalist. I sent out a press pitch that was (very nicely) denied. I have to spend a little more money than I planned this coming week – money I don’t really have. Not end-of-my-world type stuff but stuff that, nonetheless, deflated me a bit.

As I am an emotional eater this is a HUGE trigger for me. It is exactly times like this that make me want something sweet, something comforting and something really bad for me. What kind of stuff do you ask? Well….take your pick. Hostess cupcakes come to mind. Chinese food. You know, my usual stand-by comfort foods. And they lurk nearby, predators waiting to pounce on a weak and wounded animal.

In fighting this “battle of the final ten,” the last ten pounds I need to re-lose to get back to my goal weight, I admit I get tired. I have been struggling to re-lose this weight for so long I can both taste victory and see it just far enough away to make me wonder I will ever get there. Another wind taken from my sails. And when I have days like yesterday, combined with it being all icky, grey and rainy outside, I really want to go off the wagon and fill my belly with yummy-tasting food stuffs to ease that deflated feeling inside.

So I got myself together and went to the store. As I entered and the electric doors parted for me I remembered something. I remembered a few things actually:

1)      I remembered that, while it is harder to lose weight and make good choices, I am so worth those good choices and effort.

2)      I will not re-reach my goal the more I give in to my triggered comfort foods.

3)      The more I select foods that are good for me I can maintain not only portion control but a healthier diet as well.

4)      Weaning myself from foods that are bad, especially sweets, I curtail that snacky “need” and “taste” I feel at night.

So yesterday, instead of giving into the easy and quick I chose vegetables, fruits and chicken instead of the delicious-looking Hostess cakes, Tastycakes, candy bars and chips so readily nearby. I chose to buy that chicken and veggies to make meals for not just lunch and dinner yesterday, but also lunch and dinner today, too. And I maintained my resolve yea though I walked through the valley of the shadow of snacks for a feared no evil, for it was my choice, as it is always, what I put into my body. And it should be, and was, good.

A very wise person once told me to stop eating crap, stop eating out and that cooking at home is a far better, cheaper and healthier alternative. And you know something, they are exactly right. It is better. And when the wonderful smells and delicious aromas of cooking foods fill the kitchen you know you have done right not only by your pocket book but by yourself, too.

And that is exactly the kind of success we all need to put the wind back in those sails to keep on sailing.

Cravings. What is it about them? They happen all the time, everywhere. Being an emotional eater I’ve had my share of them lately (especially when I had to drop a very unexpected $2K on my car for maintenance) and I wish I could stop. Milky Way bars, egg rolls, cheese fries, Cinnabon, Auntie Anne’s pretzels and more. As I’m writing this, I have a craving for my usual cup of extra cream, extra crunchy (sugary) coffee.

You know how it is when you get a craving for something. Don’t ya? You’re deep in thought about how to save the planet, the report you have to do the next day at work, errands you have to run – it doesn’t matter. Once that craving hits you it’s like all the other thoughts in your head all somehow lead back to that craving and you try to justify it in any way possible…

“It would certainly help me think better about saving the planet/these errands/this report if I had (insert the name/type of craving you have here) in my tummy.”

I even heard from one of my friends on Twitter today who had a taste for birthday cake this morning – even though it’s eight months until her birthday.

Lately, I’ve had one helluva craving for strawberry ice-cream. I don’t know what it is or why but there are times when I’m just sitting on the couch and all I can think about is having a pint of good ol’ bad-for-you strawberry ice-cream. The last time it hit me was just the other night. I was watching the Chicago Bulls get beaten by the Cleveland Cavaliers in the NBA Playoffs (I was also craving a little bit of home). I was sitting on the couch wondering how much effort it would take to actually get dressed, drive to the store and purchase a pint. Is that bad? OK, I know the answer to that. “Yes, it is.” But if we had beaming technology I would have been so there at the Wawa (the best convenience stores on the planet) looking over the freezer to find a pint of Haagen-Dazs Strawberry Ice-Cream.

Yum.

I think ultimately I replaced one sweet craving for another. I have done a really good job as of late weaning myself off of Coca-Cola (at least as much of it as I’d been having) so I think at night, when cravings really get bad and my cravings are strongest, instead of reaching for a Coke I want to reach for ice-cream. It just so happens that I’m too damn lazy to get dressed to go get a pint which is a really, really good thing. I have also been doing my best to be Zen about my cravings. I allow myself to have my cravings every now and then so I don’t turn into a miserable, grumpy bastard but I also control them and don’t make them a part of my every day. However, it all means one thing – I soooooo need to go shopping and get some good healthier food in the house. I need to at least follow the advice of the personal trainer, Jorge, I saw recently…

1. Apples and peanut butter is a great mid-day snack.
2. Cheat with a liquid – sugar free Jello, frozen yogurt, water ice or low-cal pudding
3. Cheat with a fat – like eating a cheese steak without the bread, wings, ribs, cheeseburger without the bun

These suggestions may not help me stem my cravings for delicious strawberry ice-cream entirely but seeing my numbers go down gradually on my electronic scale sure as hell does.

Whenever I feel rundown, tired, overly anxious, nervous, distressed, worried or upset I know it’s time for me to just stop and go to sleep. That’s when I can end my day, no matter what’s going on, put my head down and recharge my batteries at least enough to tackle whatever situation comes up in life. Yes, sleep is a beautiful thing and yesterday, particularly in the afternoon, was no exception.

On Thursday, as I was driving my Honda Pilot back to southern New Jersey from New York (and that stupid, stupid $115 parking ticket) when the “maintenance required” light came on in my car. Nervous, I immediately called Honda and asked if the light came on in response to me reaching 105,000 miles. The guy on the phone said “yes, probably,” at which point I asked how much a service would be. He quoted me a price of about $250 and I went ahead and scheduled the service for Friday (yesterday). Only when I get to the service bay I find out that it’s not going to be $250, but more like $1,500 as the 105,000 mile service is the most comprehensive. Talk about bait-and-switch “shock.” And the “awe” part comes in when (and I knew this was coming) they told be I was told I had to replace my brakes, both front and rear, too, to the tune of another $500. Yep, a $2,000 trip to the car doctor added onto the $115 ticket I received and I felt miserable, rundown, overly anxious, distressed, worried and upset.

My first reaction was anger. “Why the f$#k would a person on the phone quote me such a low amount if they all supposedly knew there are “different levels” of the most comprehensive (read expensive) service they can do?” My second reaction was depression. “I can’t really afford this right now. But I need my car to be dependable,” and they totally have you over a barrel because you’re afraid if you don’t get it done your car will all but fall apart on you and you won’t be safe.

My third and final reaction? “Where’s the junk food?”

Yes, I am an emotional eater and always have been. Yesterday knocked me for a loop, came out of left field and whatever other cliché you want to use for I had the wind taken out of my sales with such a hefty price tag. All that made me want to do is drown my sorrows – and being a food-a-holic that’s exactly what I did. Earlier in the day I succumbed to the temptation and had two doughnuts, but it was all downhill from there. In the afternoon I had a pint of strawberry ice-cream. Yes, a whole pint. And for dinner I had loaded potato salad, a couple of kielbasa and, yes, a tall, delicious ice-cold Coca-Cola.

Damn. I wish I hadn’t done all that. I knew it was bad but I soooooo needed comfort food. I am human after all and yesterday sucked. Not as bad as a fraction of what’s going on in the world but it sucked in my world. After I’d eaten I knew it was time for sleep, when the mind, body and spirit just start shutting down as if light switches are one-by-one turned off in an office building or arena. I needed sleep. I couldn’t fight anymore. I was done.

But today is a new day and I have gotten my sleep. Sleep enough to let Honda know how displeased I am with the punch in the gut I got over the price. Sleep enough to get my ass to the gym to work off the silly, stupid and indulgent food binge I went on yesterday (yes, I gained back a pound and two ounces). Most of all, I got sleep enough to know it will all be OK, and that I will not let a kick in the chins derail my weight loss goal or my eating habits over the weekend (which, by the way, I’m not nervous about this weekend). I know I have to watch what I eat this weekend. I know I have to exercise. I was doing well and I will keep doing well especially being this/close to the “battle of the final ten.”

That is what sleep does, after all. It gives us energy to start a new day with the glass half-full instead of half-empty. Sleep is, indeed, a beautiful thing.

I can honestly say I had an excellent adventure to The Big Apple yesterday. Well, sort of…

I started my day as I knew I would, with my fruit and medium coffee from Dunkin’ Donuts with extra cream and extra crunchy (extra sugar). As I hit the road and enjoyed my coffee (in which they actually got the right amount of crunchiness) I was psyching myself up for what I knew would be an adventure filled with many food temptations, starting with the rest stops along the way.

Since I live in southern New Jersey I pass five rest areas along the New Jersey Turnpike – the Alexander Hamilton, the Joyce Kilmer, the Thomas A. Edison, the Richard Stockton and the Molly Pitcher. I started my day by having coffee and fruit because each one of these rest stops has a temptation I’d pull over for in a heartbeat.  Which temptations do you ask? I have three words for you: Cinnabon, Burger King and Nathan’s Hot Dogs. Just  writing about it makes me drool at the thought of a delicious, oh-so-decadent warm cinnamon roll with extra frosting, a hot and juicy, freshly-made Whopper with cheese (which my former self did have for breakfast, along with hash browns and mega-large Coke for breakfast) or a couple of awesome hot dogs with everything (a good one-handed road food). But I resisted. It was difficult but I did.

So I got to New York and, true to form, morning traffic was nuts. But I expected that. By the time I got to the Better TV offices on Lexington I was full of coffee and full of gumption that I wasn’t going to eat badly (and yes, I know, I know – I’m full of something alright). I even found a parking spot on the street just a block-and-a-half from the place. Awesome (well, sort of…)

When I arrive at the offices I was shown to the “green room,” where (insert ominous music here, or your standard dum, dum, duuuuum) a tray of some extremely delicious-looking pastries, muffins and bagels lie in front of me, each one of the delicacies calling to me and my taste buds “eat me, eat me, Bill.” “Ha,” I said. Well, actually I said “bite me,” and I had, instead a snack of some of the fresh fruit they had on a tray next to the evil (but yummy-looking) baked goods.

After a small snack of some grapes, strawberries and a piece of pineapple I was ready for my close-up, Mr. & Mrs. DeMille. And the shoot went great. The people at Better TV, especially host Audra Lowe, were great. I even got to tape a second, slightly-longer segment for airing either on the web or in markets where they have more time. I was thrilled and they seemed to like me. They really liked me, and I was out in time to go rescue my car from its street parking spot before it turned into a pumpkin. Well, sort of…

First I had to run something of a mini-gauntlet. While this one didn’t have the little red-haired girl, the clown, the colonel or the king, it did have a few restaurants that had come alive for the lunch crowd and were not open when I arrived. I passed a great-looking deli, with its wonderful tray of free samples beckoning me to taste. I passed an awesome looking Cuban restaurant and its fried wonders (although I do love me a Cuban sandwich every now and then), the smells of the food calling me to come inside and have some lunch. I also passed a great-smelling Halal-type cart where fresh chicken was frying up with some type of saucy goo that, while I didn’t know what was in it sure smelled good.

But I made it through and got to my car. I knew I had only a couple of minutes left but I should be good, no ticket for an expired meter. But wait, what was this…

…A $115 ticket for my wheels being on the sidewalk?! You’ve gotta be s%$#@&*g me?! I looked down and, wouldn’t you know, because the sidewalk and curb were so low to the street and I had no idea I had actually parked on the curb, I was parked a few (A FEW) inches onto the curb. I mean I didn’t pull an action movie or “Blues Brothers” and park completely on the sidewalk. I honestly couldn’t feel in my car I had parked on the stupid, way-too-low curb. Grrrrrrr.

I was pissed. PISSED I tell you. I was so angry I felt like the Hulk, but instead of wanting to “smash” this Hulk wanted to now eat. I’ve always said I’m an emotional eater, and those emotions run to anger, as well. When I’m angry and my adrenaline is going I feel like eating everything. I felt like going back and having some good New York deli, followed by a fried Cuban hot pockety thing they were selling and a dessert of some of that chicken with goo from the cart. I knew I had to just get in my car and get away from those temptations. And that’s what I did. I got back on the road.

And even though I was sloooooooowly calming down I was still pretty angry, and I still had to run the final gauntlet – the five rest stops I could easily resist before but now…let’s say my resolve was waning. I have to say the most tempting of the bunch was to pull over and have a Cinnabon, since they are only located in rest stops, malls (not my mall) or airports. But I didn’t. Nor did I pull over for a Whopper (my favorite fast food burger) or a hot dog (I did OD on those when I was recently home, anyway). Nah, I only had one food item on my mind and even though I was steamed enough to beat out the sun I only wanted a grilled chicken sandwich from Chick-Fil-A and Diet Dr. Pepper.

So I survived my trip, sort of. I resisted the urges that tempt us all every single day but it was quite an expensive adventure. However, I know in my head in my heart those two things should be reversed. I did get a stupid, asinine $115 ticket from the City of New York (screw you, very much) but I did hold strong and did not overeat…

…and that is a victory any day of the year.

Damn. I hate waking up late. That sudden rush of adrenaline and fear when you realize you’re hours past when you wanted to wake up and not where you wanted or expected to be. Kind of like Michael J. Fox at the beginning of “Back to the Future.”

This morning started out OK. I gently rose with both of my alarm clocks (the sun and the radio) and noticed it was only half-past-six. So what did I do? Rolled over, of course, and decided in my sleepy haze that twenty more minutes would be great (I will always want my twenty more minutes). Well, little did I realize that that twenty more minutes would turn into almost three freaking hours. Yikes!!!!!

So I did what any normal Joe would do – I immediately hopped out of bed, terrified that so much time had gone. I looked back at the clock and confirmed that I wasn’t seeing an 8 but a 9 (grrrrr), got dressed and went immediately to work. But those of you who know me know I hate being late. Even though I work from home and do this blog I hate being late. Being late sets the tone for the day, and makes me feel like I am constantly behind the 8-ball.

Now in an instance like this in my former life (driving to work) I would be grabbing myself something quick and fast on the way. No doubt my extra crunchy (sugary) coffee from Dunkin’ Donuts and a breakfast sandwich of some type. But now that I work from home it’s safe and dangerous all at the same time. I could easily reach for my darling clementines – those delicious, small seedless wonders – or make something completely bad, a comfort food that will calm me down. Something that involves sausage, or bacon (bacon, bacon, bacon, bacon) or syrupy. But I remind myself that I can’t, especially with my weight creeping back up. In the end that’s what calms me down, that wonderful voice inside my head, body and heart saying “don’t eat crap.”

So I take a deep breath and focus. I hate starting my day stressed and certainly do not want to start my day stress eating. It is such a danger for me. I am an emotional eater, and stress is one of those emotions that can make you eat without realizing it. In those situations I eat something just to occupy my body in some way without thinking twice to the calories I am consuming. I hate that. When I am sad I turn to my comfort foods. While I know what I am eating in those situations I tend to eat lots more than I should because I try to take away that sadness and replace it with warm, good feelings that I think food will provide. But it only works for a while, and the only thing I feel is being full. And after, all I’m left with is an extra pound or two.

Today, though, I had my clementines and am about to make a cup of very crunchy coffee (coffee with extra extra sugar) and start my day of writing. I had had it all worked out, what I was going to write about today (which was a follow-up to my tough love blog helping people who seemingly need help), but I will save that for tomorrow. In a way I’m glad I woke up late, sort of like a test you pass unexpectedly.

That’s how I know this will be a successful week. That’s how I know I will continue to lose this weight and keep it off.  That’s how I know I actually learned something on my weight loss journey.

Ah, here we are. Another weekend. Another chance to suck it up and make sure I both exercise and eat well.

But two things bother me going into this weekend. I’m stuck at 233, which I guess is OK, and I have a birthday party I need to go to tonight and I’m worried about eating too many of the wrong things. See, first and foremost, I am a stress/emotional eater. Second, a social eater. I like having what others have. I like reaching for buffalo wings, pizza slices, loaded nachos, onion rings, fried cheese sticks and Coca-Colas, too.

And it does suck sometimes knowing I’m gonna be nursing some water and trying to find God knows what on the menu to eat. It always seems the healthiest choices on the menu sound the least appetizing. But I’m going to take a deep breath and remember my own words. I know I just have to be good and think about what I put into my body tonight. I am the only one who can do that. I am the only one who makes me eat anything. And I am the one who has to answer for it on the scale.

See, talking it out helps me, too. It helps me re-focus and know that being fat was my own doing from the things I did to myself. And if I never want to see that old me again I have to be good whether it’s the weekend or not.

OK, I feel much better. Thanks for listening to me vent. Now, off to the gym…

…and I will let you guys know tomorrow how I do tonight. And remember, you have that power, too. Deciding what foods enter your body is all up to you as it is to me.