When Ryan Hall dropped out of the Men’s Olympic Marathon less than a month ago, people accused him of being a quitter.
There are Pinterest quotes that scream, “Pain is temporary and quitting is permanent!”
I get that quitting can be bad, but it also can be good (and needed and safer and in Ryan Hall’s decision was an intelligent choice to save a career by accepting an injured hamstring).
I quit drinking Diet Coke well over a week ago when I realized that I was cracking a can every time I felt thirsty. I knew it was wrong, but I’m not sure it was because I felt so awful that I knew it had to be quit. It was a case of intellect outshining desire (damned desire) and in this case my brain won.
It was the first step in taking back some control of a diet that had spun away from me. I’d retreated back to the coping mechanism of using food during what’s been a tumultuous time in my life.
Entering day four without sugar hasn’t been as easy, but it also hasn’t been torture.
I am not having huge cravings and I’m beginning to feel what I think is hunger.
Five days ago the habit to return to the fridge/kitchen/pantry for energy and fuel and emotional strength left me feeling like a guinea pig on a wheel.
Once the wheel got going I could run and run and run, but I never felt satiated and never felt good.
But it saved me from having to think.
The hardest part of cutting out the refined sugar has not been the cravings. It’s been setting myself up to make better choices by having a fridge/kitchen/pantry stocked full of the right things.
In the midst of a hectic day, given the choice to eat a bag of Twizzlers over anything else, the decision too often made itself. Admitting is the first step to recovery and so I confess. This is how I tick. This is how I was made.
Will I ever eat a cupcake again? I’d be in denial if I said, “No.”
Do I hope I’m not in the position to eat one (or a box) for a long time? Oh God, on knees, saying prayers.
My biggest hope is that when I do decide to eat a cupcake (and let’s hope the cake part is moist and rich and the buttercream sings in its sweetness) that I will be able to stop there and not eat three.
A day at a time. A minute at a time. With faith that (for today) I can do this.
Do you emotionally eat? Do you have triggers? Ever feel like a guinea pig on a wheel in the kitchen (or anywhere else for that matter)?