Sunday, 9 February 2020

Off the wagon; off a cliff


Well, that didn’t take long. 24 hours after praising myself for acting healthily, I have gorged on shit food and made myself feel sick and ashamed. Yet again, it’s down to my oldest, worstest enemy. I am sad to confess that my nemesis – the British weather – has caused my comeuppance. Sitting indoors while yet another day of wet, windy, grey shitness pounds the world outside has driven me quickly into self-pity, depression and gluttony. It’s weird, and disappointing, that I still always turn back to eating shit when I feel the need to change my mood, but old habits die hard, I guess. You can’t change the habits of a lifetime just because the weather was sunny for two days. Indulgence is my heritage, or something…
Maybe I’m just weak.
Or maybe I’m just overreacting. I exercised yesterday for the first time in months and didn’t change my intake of calories accordingly. I also did too much at once, making too many changes too close to each other. I cut out sugary stuff, cut down caffeine, altered my meal sizes and reduced my amount of carbs, all in the time between Wednesday and Friday. And that was even before I put in 8 miles on my bike. (without having breakfast, I might add.)
So – I was a bit of a twat, really. My body couldn’t cope with so many adjustments, so today it took me back to what it had been happy with before, craving the sort of foods I’d been stuffing myself with throughout January, and I wasn’t strong enough mentally to oppose it.
So my new leaf that I turned over has now turned back again, or turned over again in a different direction into a different kind of leaf, that’s even worse than the one I had before.
Being me is so taxing…

RC 9-2-20

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