Unfortunately, I’m not talking about two hot men named Will doing some bare-chested wrestling. [See, girls can objectify just like guys can.]
I’m talking about the internal battle of wills, between the old self with all those unhealthy, entrenched thought processes, and the new wannabe-fitness self who struggles daily to make better choices. Yesterday, the old self won.
The company that I work for (but only for another week because then I start my DREAM JOB at Save the Children!!) has just won Best Workplace in Australasia, and so the higher-ups shouted morning tea for everyone. There were sausage rolls and two large chocolate cakes - more than enough for everyone in the office. I hadn’t had breakfast yet because I was snowed under with work and just hadn’t gotten around to it, so of course I was hungry. And since you’re supposed to be social at these kinds of things, you have to stand around talking to people while eating the proffered food.
So the first to go down were two sausage rolls. My rationale: I hadn’t had any in months and I really needed to eat something.
New self was trying hard to keep there and not indulge any further, but noooooo, I had to walk by the cake, and was of course offered a piece, and I cannot say no when cake is offered. So down went a slice of delicious chocolate cake. Which sent my body into a crazy freak out because I haven’t had sugar in weeks. I had to eat something to counter-balance the sugar. By this time is was lunchtime, and there is this new Mexican place that’s basically just a take-out window across the street that I was dying to try (Mexican is a rarity in NZ), so a quesadilla was taken on board.
So the old self won in the end. I actually found myself envious of my boss who is both diabetic and gluten-free, so she can’t eat allthethings like me, she has to actually think about whatever she eats. Now I know that it’s not an easy life having those restrictions, trust me, I do. I just wish I had that built-in thought process that I could rely on to help me make better decisions.
To make up for a mediocre eating day, I dragged the husband out for a Friday night run. I know, I know, we’re so romantic and social! But I tell ya what, a run makes me feel way better in the end than drinking the night away. Blasphemy to college-aged-me.
And the run did make me feel better, since we’re continuing on through the Couch to 10K program and we’re up to running 45 minutes plus warm-up and cool-down. That comes out to about 7.5K overall, depending on the direction and fierceness of the Welly winds, and since I’ve started Running Actually, it’s just an amazing feeling to be out running in the dark along the waterfront with no one around.
I think someone has kidnapped the real Christina. If I start talking about running a marathon, someone call the Crazy Police!