Emotional Roller Coaster

If you had run into me yesterday around 5 pm, you would've met with a frowny face and a disgruntled attitude. I had just met with my trainer and confessed all my shortcomings with the diet. I admitted the nibbling. In response to my honesty, she gave me a "pep talk". All about self-discipline and the ego and committing to decisions. I nodded profusely, yes, yes, okay, okay. But inside, I was feeling defeated.

my mom, me, & beautiful sisters

Just the night before I had had a fun girls night with my sisters, who both agreed that I was WEIRD. I drink my coffee weird (flavored stevia and organic soy milk); I eat my chocolate weird-- yes, this was one of those cheats, but it's 90% cocoa, almost no sugar & a bit of protein. I offered my sisters a bite; one refused and one spit it out upon tongue contact. My entire diet is weird. My smelly asparagus pee is weird. Not to mention my bedtime routine is weird, which is abnormally long due to the intake of supplements and vitamins, removal of contacts, removal of make-up, peeing, flossing, brushing teeth for 4 minutes straight, washing face, moisturizing, administering of Latisse (courtsey of the makers of my implants), stretching (which I actually skipped while they were there), and peeing again. My unique habit of repeatedly folding and unfolding the crisp hem of my pillowcase between my finger nails is WEIRD. Don't get me wrong. I laugh about all this because I like being weird. I was feeling mighty proud of myself for being weird.

But then I met with the trainer and felt too normal. I cheat. I nibble. I'm an emotional eater. I'm wishy-washy in my commitments. I succumb to social eating. I pout internally because I want cheesecake and chocolate and cupcakes and brownies and bread. I felt like a failure.

So yesterday evening, I was down in the dumps depressed. So much so that I lost my appetite completely. I had to run to Costco and I didn't sample a thing. I had to prep my meals for the remainder of the weekend, and I didn't even nibble. I had to make two giant fruit salads for the back-to-school teachers luncheon the PTA puts on, and I . . . okay, well, I tasted to make sure the canteloupe was edible, but really, I didn't nibble as much as I usually would. And suddenly, I felt better. I had spent hours in my kitchen and hadn't eaten but perhaps 100 calories. Trainer Jill has challenged me to go 6 days with no cheating. Not an extra almond, not a lick of the peanut butter knife, not an extra bite of chicken, and surely not a piece of bread or a cookie.

Luckily, I like a challenge. This morning, I woke up with a new attitude, a new determination. And I've done great today. I've felt great today. I haven't been hungry or mad or depressed or bitter. The fact is, she's right. If I can go 6 days straight, I will get the cravings, the temptations, the nibbles out of my system. That voice in my head that says, "Just one bite won't hurt." Or, "You worked out so hard today; you've earned a few extra calories." Or, "You've got plenty of time; don't peak too soon." That voice is what I need to overcome. And I can do it. And then hopefully my days will be more ups than downs.

It truly is an emotional roller coaster. At times I wonder why the h* I'm doing this to myself (and yes, I swear with first letters only); it's crazy. I want to be normal. But then I experience these amazing epiphanies, this occasional enlightenment, and it's not just about the eating, the workouts, the sacrifice of sugar and chocolate and oatmeal and bread. It's about willpower. And determination. And a kind of strength I never knew I had. It's about being weird and being okay with that. There's a strange sense of peace when you realize that you really can survive if you don't eat that cookie, and when there's no emotions attached to the not-eating. Usually, there's still that yearning, or if you do eat it, there's that guilt. All those emotions-- that's not peace. But when you pass it up with absolutely no emotions involved, that's really quite something. And it's rare.

Now-- will I ever compete again after October 2010?? Usually I say NEVER. I'm already announcing my early retirement. But, then again . . . who knows what I'll say when I've actually finally done it?