I didn’t post while I was in Bend; the almost dying part of the trip kind of shook me up. I didn’t eat terribly bad, especially since the condo had a kitchen. So I generally ate well 2 meals of the day, and not so great for 1 meal. The best part was the break from the gym. I felt like I really needed some repair time for my poor, tired muscles. So that was really, really nice. And now it’s time to kick it up a notch.
My diet hasn’t been great the last few days, but I’m ramping back up again. Sometimes I wish I could do the “good” diet 100% of the time, stay “strong”, etc etc, but that’s just not realistic for me. I like to eat. A lot more then is probably good for me. I also hate the fact that eating, while I do enjoy it, also makes me feel guilty. I wish I could view food as simply fuel. I wish that it meant nothing to me. That it wasn’t comforting, or stress relieving, or fun, or playful, or soothing, or any of the other emotional meanings I’ve attached to it. But it’s only human to feel this way. So I guess it’s just something I will have to constantly deal with. I just have to keep picking myself up, dusting myself off, and keeping at it.
