It's been a few weeks since I have gotten out of bed and went for my daily walk/run. Of course, I had lots of excuses. First it was youth conference prep, then it was youth conference recovery, then it was making up for all the other things I had procrastinated, and then I was just out of the habit. So, I got up this morning at 5:50am and hit the walking path. Again, I think I may be more cut out to be a "walker" than a "runner." I did have to supress the urge to jog every now and then, but I didn't want to push it my first day back. And I keep telling myself not to be so hard about what I don't do (ie, run for 30 minutes straight), but I need to be proud of myself for doing anything, even if it is just walking [for 2.67 miles, thank you MapMyRun.com]. Interestingly, I was able to walk my route today in almost as quick of time as I "ran" it, so, yeah, I am thinking I'll save my joints some pain and not push so hard. I have really felt an urgency lately to get my act together as far as my health goes, and it is just not something that I feel like has ever come naturally to me. I remember in college several of my girlfriends would "go running" (back in the day with their CD players or walkmans, yay for the skinny IPODs) and I tried to fake like I did too, every now and then, but really, I was more inclined to run down to the basement vending machine in times of any ebbing emotion. I have watched enough Oprah and Discovery Health programs to self-diagnose myself as an emotional eater, and as the kids have brought more heights to my emotional rollar coaster, I have become an emotional soda drinker. I thought this morning about how I had cut back a lot on my drinking (seriously, it feels like an addiction to me, so don't laugh if I sound like I am at an AA meeting), but how I still mourned and struggled with the choice of to drink or not to drink. Eating out is the worst. I don't know if (other than the fact that I really like the sweet, dark, bubbly, burny beverages) because of my years waitressing I feel like I am helping boost the waiter's ticket by ordering a soda that is overly priced at $1.59 (although the free refills do bring some solace). OR, if, when I am at a soda fountain I look at the options and really am not that attracted to any of the other brands of soft drinks, other than the sweet, dark, bubbly, burny nectar of heaven. BUT at all times I feel in conflict between what I know and what I want to do versus what I think I should even worry about. I mean, I know there are really big issues in the world that I could really get on board with, but I keep getting caught up in this caffeine thing. And, for the record, I do not want to develop a taste for the Diet since it still has caffeine, which I believe is not good for me. I've had enough withdrawl headaches to throw that red flag up. And the caffeine free still has the sugar, which looks lovely as I wear it on my thighs. And Diet Caffeine Free? Seriously? Why bother? So, I am weighing this all out (ya gotta love real soul searching with the Dreamgirls soundtrack blaring in my earbuds) and I realize it comes back to the Relief Society lesson we had on Sunday.
It was about integrity and I thought it was really enlightening to me. I KNOW what is best for my body. Heck, even when I was sad for myself that I was up early, I thought of the "early to rise" scripture and of all I would be able to do when I got home before the kids got up (like blog), and how I couldn't help but being proud of doing something good for me. But somehow, even though I KNOW I should give up the hooch, I am having a hard time making the "click" with following through and "doing" it (or in this case "not drinking it"). I mean, when something "clicks" it isn't a struggle and I don't have a such a problem committing to the idea. But, man! I feel like I'd be giving up my best boyfriend (yes, in my mind my soda love is a man, but SUCH a great girlfriend . . . so I think my soda love is gay.) Really, when I have triumphed over a dirty bathroom, who really celebrates with me? My 32 oz. Coke. When I am having a "I'm gonna pull me hair out if you whine one more time" day, who feels my pain? My 64 oz. Coke. When I have successfully filled my basket at Sam's Club and the debit card hasn't declined the purchases, who helps me with my buyer's remorse? That's right, my Coke. How do you give up that kind of emotional support? So, you see, I AM IN LIMBO here, about what to do with what I feel and how to do it and if I even really want to do it. Blah Blah Blah, yadda yadda yadda. Integrity smegrity.
Alright, the first of the kids has gotten up, so I need to high tail it to clean-up for the day. Have a great Tuesday.