Not like, “oh hey! I ate some junk food!”
No, I binged. I went manic. I went to full bore. And I knew that if I took a step back and drank some water, went for a walk on the treadmill downstairs, hit my kickboxing bag that I still haven’t really touched since I had to have it a few weeks ago, I’d be able to get out of that programming in my brain. I would be able to change the channel. But for some reason, I could not find the remote. I was stuck on the eating infomercial from hell and in turn I consumed behind my family’s back. I consumed in front of my family. I consumed in front of my friends. I consumed when my friends weren’t looking.
So, today is Monday. It’s sunny and shiny and bright and all sorts of other things. I’m starting the day by acknowledging what I did this weekend for almost six hours straight yesterday, and far more than that on Saturday. A few minutes ago I chugged 12 ounces of water. In about nine minutes I plan on drinking another 20 and then getting in a good workout. I’m going to go home and start some white chicken chili in the slow cooker so that I have a hearty, fan-fave meal waiting for us at dinner time so that we don’t end up fending for ourselves and eating “whatever” for dinner.
And I’m posting this now because I want to be held accountable. I want people to give me a shoulder bump this week and asked me what’s up. I want people to raise their eyebrows at me at the gym. You see me slacking, hand me the heavier dumbbells. It is shiny and bright Monday and I refuse to go back into that gloomy gutter of the weekend.
Just keeping it real and drinking my water, because nobody gets anywhere from patting themselves on the back with a pocketful of lies.
That crap made no sense.
I need a shower.
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