Balance in Bites

So, I’m not dead. I’m alive! Thank you for all your comments/well wishes/etc. <3 I’ve been meaning to update in a while, but haven’t gotten around to it til now.

It’s highly unlikely that I’m going to continue updating this blog. Dieting and talking about dieting and thinking about dieting and blogging about dieting made me go bonkers. Perhaps as a different type of blog…. maybe. I will need to think about it.

You know what I realized? My binge eating isn’t actually due to some emotional void or some shit. Ok, maybe occasionally I’ll eat for emotional reasons, but honestly, who doesnt? The real reason: I binge when I restrict my food intake. Bam. Clean, and simple. It’s a reaction that my mind and body take when I diet. I  never really entertained that idea, because 1. I figured that everyone who said “when you restrict, you can’t keep it up and then eventually you binge!” were talking about like, 400 cals a day type restrictions. “That couldn’t be me!” I gasped. “I eat over 1200 calories each day! And I’m HEALTHY!” Well, maybe my body thinks that 1500 cals a day IS restricting. Maybe 1500 calories a day works for some people, but maybe I’m just predisposed to binge eating. Binge eating is the loaded gun, and dieting just pulls the trigger. And 2. I never thought that it could be a direct result of dieting, because I wanted to diet AND not binge. I told myself, there must be another reason, some reason that I can figure out and beat, and THEN, I’ll be able to diet AND not binge. Dieting can’t cause bingeing, because I am going to diet, dammit, and I am going to NOT BINGE.

Huge lightbulb: 90% of the times that I binge are while I’m also trying to diet. DUH. HELLO.

Also note that my bingeing started right after I got all four wisdom teeth taken out. I couldn’t eat for a week (omg starvation mode!) and I lost 7 pounds in 10 days. When I could finally eat solid food without fear of a dry socket, I shoveled into my mouth like there was no tomorrow. It wasn’t conscious or anything. It just happened. ANALOGY! My friends have a cute dog named Wash who was a rescue dog. When he was a puppy, he barely had enough to eat to survive. Now, he thinks that every meal is his last. It’s ingrained in his mind. So whenever you put a bowl of dog food in front of him, he’s like OMG FOOD MUST EAT ALL NOW. Now, obviously I was never on the verge of death as a youth, but, you know.

Fuck dieting. Fuck worrying about 4 pounds this way or that way. Am I going to lay on my death bed and think “wow, I wish I dieted more.” Uh, no.

So, I’m not counting calories, and I’m not counting points. I’m not restricting my food intake. I’m drinking beer when I want to and eating pizza when I want to. I’m not worrying about the scale. I’ve stepped on it occasionally, but only out of pure curiosity. It hasn’t affected my mood or my day (Crazy, right?).

And what has happened? Well, I’ve gained about 10 or so pounds and have been holding steady there for a few weeks now. So I’m 10 pounds up from my lowest weight, and 12 pounds under my “starting” weight. I weigh somewhere around 150.

So what does the future hold? Well, I do enjoy my beer and my pizza, but I am going to try to make healthier choices from now on. Water between the beers, and put some veggies on the pizza. =P No, but really, I’m trying harder to eat more intuitively. And it’s actually working this time.

Honestly, I’m more mentally sane that I have been in months. Sometimes I still feel a twinge of regret or wishful thinking when I see a thin model, or catch a glimpse of my size 4 jeans that I was going to fit into. When I started dieting, I told myself, this time is different. THIS time, I’ll succeed. And I knew I would.

Well  – I didn’t succeed in the sense that I’m sporting size 4 jeans around my ass. And you know what? That’s ok. I didn’t realize at the time that success would only come at the expense of my happiness and sanity.

It’s just not worth it.

Sorry guys, but have another list to grace your presence. Lists are great because they require no real talent in composition. You just throw it down, bam, number 1! Bam, number 2! No writing effort required! Without further ado:

Good things!

1. Go read Quix’s blog. She’s pretty rad.

2. Christmas was pretty sweet! I got a Garmin 205 (basically the 305 but with no heart rate monitor, cause I’d never wear it. I don’t really care about my heartrate, plus, how would I strap that thing around my monster of a sports bra(s)? Believe me, being “well endowed” truly does suck), plus a recipe book by Ellie Kirger, “So Easy.” Not only will I learn how to cook delicious, easy, fast recipes, but I’ll learn how to be more promiscuous! Weee!

3. I feel less in a funk, which is good. I’ve run twice since I’ve been home (note: after taking 2-3 weeks off, running on hills WILL MAKE YOU SORE, OW), and I feel good about that. Plus, I’ve been more mindful about what I’m eating. Not dieting at all, or counting calories, but also not binging. I like it. I’m hoping to keep this up through out the next couple months and maintain or lose very slowly. Which brings me to:

4. No more dieting for me, at least for now. You won’t see any calorie counts or WW points on here anymore. I don’t think it’s healthy for me right now. It took me a long while to come to this conclusion, because I really DO want to lose weight, and holy shit how much do I HATE to “give up” or “fail” at this whole thing (yes, I know I shouldn’t think of it like that, but goddammit it’s hard not to), BUT, dieting right now isn’t going to help me. Which brings me to my NEXT point (I love these lists):

5. Not dieting does NOT give me a free pass to bingebingebinge. It also doesn’t give me a free pass to throw the baby out with bathwater and sit on my ass and not run. I really, really really need to work on getting away from this all or nothing thinking. I logically know that if I have one piece of cake, it does not mean the world is ending. But my illogical brain tells me that, actually, the world IS ending, get your sandwich board and get out on the streets to hand out your pamphlets because this is it, we’re all going to burn in hell lest we REPENT!

6. I actually weigh less than I thought I did. At this point, I was thinking I was around 155 or so. But nay! I’m 149! Now, I know I said I wasn’t going to obsess over this and diet and count and all that, and yeah, I should get rid of the scale, but that’s actually one thing I’m thinking of holding on to. It would be nice to be able to prove to myself that I can actually maintain my weight, rather than gaining or losing. We’ll see.

7. My New Year’s Eve plan consists of staying in with my boyfriend, cooking a delicious meal, and drinking fancy champagne. It’s going to be *awesome.* =D

I think I’m done, actually. Everything is under the category of “good things.” I like that. =)

SO! Things that are good:

1. I’ve been relaxing a lot.
2. I haven’t been bingeing, necessarily, but I’m definitely eating
more than I should, because I’m gaining weight.

Things that are not as good:

1. I haven’t run in almost 3 weeks, I think. And I’m doing a
half-marathon in 12 weeks. Gotta, uh, get on that.
2. I’ve gained about…. mmm, 12 pounds total? I haven’t weighed
myself in a while, so many like 15, up from my lowest weight (139).
But guys, get this, news flash! Egg nog is SO delicious! especially
when mixed with rum! >.>
3. I’ve been drinking lots of red wine. Also, I’m tempted to put this
in the “things that are good” category.
4. I just feel like I’ve been in a funk these past few weeks. Ever
since I went to that clinic, I don’t know – I feel like it kind of
screwed with my head a bit.

Since we’re on a roll here with lists, High Fidelity style:

Things that were stupid about the clinic I went to!

1. The girls were cliquey and seemed somewhat immature. I felt like I
was the oldest person there. And I’m only 24!
2. Almost everyone had been in and out of various levels of care -
in-patient, out-patient, hospitalization, you name it. Name any famous
ED rehab center, and someone was like “oh my gosh, I went there too!
When did you go?” and then they’d talk about the staff and the
sessions or whatever. Or someone would be like “Oh, that’s where I
want to go next! Was it good? I hear they take my insurance” and it’s
like, hold up, that’s where you want to go NEXT? What do you mean,
NEXT? Aren’t you in this program so that you don’t HAVE to go anywhere
next? I just felt incredibly disconnected to the entire group.
3. The staff members were extraordinarily unorganized. Or at least,
the two I mainly dealt with were disorganized (there were four
coordinators total). They were like, “Ok, let me grab you a meal plan
sheet” * rummage rummage, flip through files, rummage * “I know it’s
here somewhere, hold on” *flipflipflip, open drawer, close drawer *
“Ok, well, let’s not worry about it now, and I’ll get you on at the
end of today”  - and then, lo and behold, they’d forget, I’d forget,
we’d all forget, and then I’d go home without the sheet and facepalm
myself when I realized. This scenario happened like, three times.
Lame. Get your shit together.
4. Turns out we couldn’t talk about any of our actual behaviors.
Instead of saying “Ugh, yesterday I went and felt totally out of
control and binged on a whole pizza and now I feel like crap,” you
would have to say, “Yesterday I participated in an maladaptive
behavior and I feel disappointed.” Because we’re not supposed to say
things that could potentially trigger others. I get it, but I still
feel like it kind of skirts around some major issues, and a lot of the
other girls agreed. “But!” cried another girl, “that’s why you have
your own individual counselor, so you can talk about that stuff with
her, alone!” Which brings me to my next point:
5. I don’t have TIME for this, let alone also have time for an
individual therapist. They want me to (and yes I’m serious) come to
this program at least three nights a week (5:30-8:30) – but they
encourage 5 times a week!, have weekly appointments with an individual
therapist, have weekly appointments with a nutritionist, and go to a
yoga studio?! AND find a psychiatrist, if I feel I need one. And all
of this is NOT in-house; I have to arrange this all on my own. Uh,
guys, I work full time. Do you know how much of a bitch it is to get
evening appointments with ANYONE? I feel like the program is very much
geared towards college students. Sigh.
6. The therapists weren’t even that good. I don’t feel like they
offered up anything that I didn’t already know. There were a couple
good things here and there, but overall, I was very much NOT
impressed.

I’m glad I’m not going anymore. I don’t see how this is a nationally
recognized, acclaimed program.

Anyway, since then, I’ve been in a funk. I feel disappointed that I’m
gaining weight, but I’m not sure how to get motivated to diet again.
Or even if I SHOULD be on a diet. A lot of me thinks that I shouldn’t
be, actually. This whole thing is messing with my brain, man. It’s bad
news. I just want to go back to how it was when I first started losing
weight – it was so effortless, I felt good about it. I felt SKINNY
when I lost my first few pounds and was at 155 or so. Now I’m at 155
and feel gross and fat. Wtf.

I’m also afraid that dieting is causing my bingeing, so I don’t want
to diet and exacerbate that. But I also don’t want to gain weight. And
I don’t know how to eat like a normal person! I don’t know what to do.
Why does food have to be so complicated?

1. I’ve decided not to go back to that clinic. For many reasons, but let’s just say that yes, this IS the best choice for me right now, and yes, I DID give it enough time. I’m really proud of myself for trying it, and I think I took away some good things. But yeah – it’s not for me.

2. HI GUYS!

3. I haven’t been running, and I need to get back into it. I miss it.

4. I’ll post an update with everything later this week. =)

Because I’m pretty exhausted, both mentally and physically, I’ll keep this quick.

FIRST AND FOREMOST:

To everyone who comments and reads and cares and supports and sends well wishes and all – THANK YOU. You have no idea how much it means to me. I read all your comments and they make me laugh and feel better and tear up, sometimes all at the same time! So thank you. Ok, I’m done with the mush now.

1. There were only four people in the group this session, and everyone was pretty quiet, which sort of bummed me out. Now, I’m not one to judge, and if people don’t want to talk one day, that’s fine, but the therapists running the group would be like “So, now, what did you all write down for that exercise? Who wants to start?” and everyone would look down at their paper and just sit there and not say anything. I feel like I’m being extremely judgmental and kind of mean, but part of me is sitting there thinking, come ON guys, what is this, junior high therapy? No one’s talking, seriously? This is the adult program, don’t you all want to participate? Get the biggest bang for your buck? Really work on getting better? And of course I didn’t want to pipe up, because I’m the newbie, and I want to hear some examples before I start spewing out stuff and potentially making a fool out of myself.

Eventually, I was like, ok whatever. I’m here for ME. *I* want to work on this. I’m here to get the most out of these sessions, and if that means I’m the one who’s going to start the discussion, so be it. So I talked a bit, which got some other people talking, and (phew) no one said my views/opinions/discussion was lame or anything.

2. Dinner was fine. My meal was totally a-ok. It had grains, proteins, veggies, fruit, fat, and a caloric drink (juice). It met all the requirements and any anxiety I had over that went out the window. All four of us, plus a coordinator, sat at a big table in the middle, and we had 30 minutes to eat our meal. They provide plates, utensils, some condiments, glasses, napkins, etc. We’re supposed to eat slowly and mindfully. Done and done.

Ok, wow, I’m more exhausted than I thought. So instead of talking about the meditation/yoga/relaxation exercises we did (which were awesome btw), I’m going to pass the hell out in bed.

Overall, my impressions of the program were kind of meh. It could have just been this particular group, or the particular day, I don’t know. I’m absolutely going to give it more time. =)

And on that note…. zzzzzzzzzz.

Whew. Ok, let’s backtrack.

Yesterday: Went to my intake assessment at the ED clinic. I walk in, and everything is beautiful. It’s like a freaking spa in there. How the hell does my cheap-ass health insurance cover this? I furtively look around for super skinny chicks that will obviously look at me with disdain, and I see none. I mentally facepalm/chastise myself, and head through the glass doors to the reception area. Homegirl at the counter gives me a clipboard and tells me to fill out the information. There’s a bunch of paper there, but they’re all the same, so I fill out the top two pages about my basic info and insurance, and hand it in. Homegirl comes back out and says “Ya gotta fill ‘em all out.” Me: “Oh, oh! Oh, ok, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize –“ and she walks away. Well, fine then, DON’T make me feel like I’m not a noob. Jerk. I look at the packet. There’s like 4905834905 pages to fill out, and they’re not all the same. D’oh.

I start to panic a bit. Every page has “Eating Disorder Clinic” written at the top (well, it says the actual name of the clinic, but seriously, everywhere I look, it’s like “Hey! Hey you! YOU! You have an eating disorder! Ha! You’re in an Eating Disorder clinic! You have disordered eating! Bahahaha!”) There are posters on the wall that are like “How to help a friend with an eating disorder,” or, “Welcome to our Eating Disorder Clinic!” or, “YOU’RE AT AN ED CLINIC, SUCKA!” Well, not the last one, but I’m looking all around and I’m like “Wait! But – but, not ME, *I* don’t have an eating disorder. Not ME. Do I? Oh, god, I totally do, don’t I.” And then proceeded to fill out the forms. While still somewhat panicking.

Then this nice woman named Emily comes over and talks with me about how she’s going to do an intake, and how she’ll ask me some questions, and I can tell her about myself and blah blah blah.

Highlights of our meeting together:

1. When she first meets with me, she asks me if I want something to drink. “We have water, or some Gatorade, if you’d like?” Me: Oh my god what’s the right answer if I pick water will she think I ONLY drink water? if I pick Gatorade that’s weird because I don’t like Gatorade all that much so I shouldn’t pick that just because oh crap oh crap um, um, “A glass of water would be great, thanks.” OH GOD SHE’S ANALYZING ME. RIGHT. NOW. *sweatsweatsweat*

The water was nice. It had ice in it and I was thirsty and it gave me something to do during the awkward silences that always happen when you’re talking to a therapist who’s writing notes about you. Besides, she totally wasn’t analyzing me.

2. For about 10 minutes, my stomach kept growling, like, very loudly. I’d be like “talk talk talk talk GRRRWOOOOWWWWLLLDLDLIRRRPOOLN” talk talk talk GRRRRREGGGEEEOWOOOOOLLLLLL.” It was SO EMBARRASING. I mean it was almost 7 pm, and I had had lunch at 12:15, and I was legitimately hungry, dammit. So I’m actually blushing at this point because it’s just so ridiculous, and while I’m in the middle of talking about, I don’t know, my family history of alcoholism, I just blurt out “I swear I had lunch! Like seriously, I really did, my stomach is just growling for some reason. Um. I’m kind of embarrassed about this, here.” And she looks at me and she’s like “Oh, I actually hadn’t noticed.” Me: “Oh – oh, *nervous giggle* oh well, um, ok, then, [internally: goddammit dammity awkward turtle fucker fuck *sticks foot in mouth*]” But she was actually very nice, and as I’m blushing my face off, she’s like “It’s ok, we’re talking about all these issues, and it’s normal to have your mind on something like that.” Me: “*nodnodnod, blushblushblush*”

3. There are magazines on the counter next to us. One is Highlights For Children, and the other is National Geographic. I’m puzzled for about .02 seconds and then realize that these are probably some of the only magazines that don’t feature models, food, health, weight, etc. Cool. (But then I think, what about all the pictures of the starving children in Africa? But then I think, who’s gonna be leafing through National Geographic while your assessment counselor is asking you if you eat oreos and pizza for breakfast? [the answer is yes, I totally have done that] I digress). I totally dig Highlights For Children, though. Remember the Goofus vs. Gallant comics? It’d be like, “Goofus comes across an old lady struggling with carrying groceries. He kicks her and runs away! Then he gets arrested.” And then next to it, “Gallant comes across and old lady struggling with carrying groceries. He helps her carry them into her home. Then he grows up to become the president!”

4. Sometimes my psychology major/history with therapy makes me want to rephrase everything she asks me.

Emily: “I see here that you run, could you tell me a little about that?”

Me: “Oh, if you’re asking me if I’m a compulsive over-exerciser as a means of purging after binges, then no, I’m not. Or were you getting at something else?”

(No, I don’t really answer questions like this.)

5. After finally getting to the end of My History With Food, I mention that I was on weight watchers for a while before these binges started. You know what she said?

“If I had a nickel for every time someone came in here with a story about how Weight Watchers triggered disordered eating for them, I’d be rich.”

o.O

Verrrrrry interesting.

I mean, she went on to say that WW is a very good diet for  LOT of people, just that there’s something about it that triggers… something, for some people. I don’t know if I totally buy it, but it was interesting to here her say that.

After my assessment was done, she pretty much told me I was a prime candidate for the program. High functioning, not overwhelmingly crazy/depressed, but has issues with food and wants to sort them all out.

Then she needed to weigh me. They weigh you once a week with your back to the scale. She brings me down this hallway and opens this little closet and there’s this scale in there, its like a doctor’s office scale, only digital, no back-and-forth-slidey weight things, and it’s like the only thing that could even fit in it, the closet was so small. She tells me to stand on the scale backwards, facing the wall, so I do. The wall is covered with all this cool artwork. “Numbers don’t define you” one said. Now, I’m not really into the whole “draw a picture, express yourself, come away cured” kind of thing, but it was pretty neat. It made me smile. =)

Right now, I’m thinking the program is going to be interesting. I’m nervous as all get out. Scratch that – I’m terrified. I’m going back there after work tonight and I have to EAT DINNER with everyone. I’m terrified I didn’t get my dinner right (you bring your own dinner, and it has to meet certain guidelines, and last night I’m like, tearing my hair out. “Does hummus count as a protein, or a fat? or both?! Does this wrap count as one grain or two?? Oh my god I don’t have a “small dessert”!!” More on that later). But I think it’s a good step that I’m trying this out. If it doesn’t work out, I’m not going to beat myself up about it – I’ll just walk away and feel good about the fact that I tried it, and then seek out some other options available to me. If it DOES work out, well then….. that would be pretty awesome.

Guys, I did it, I called. I have an intake appointment TONIGHT at 5:30.

I’m SO NERVOUS. *wrings hands*

I feel fat.

I hate saying that. I should NOT feel fat. I am a healthy weight for my height (despite my recent weight gain of 8 pounds), I run 3-4 times a week, and for the most part, I eat healthy foods. I am 5′6″ and weigh 148 pounds.

My blog started as a weight watchers/diet blog. Then it morphed into a healthy eating/healthy living blog. Now I feel like it’s on the way to a disordered eating blog (“dear diary, today I binged again, I fail at life.” “dear diary, today I was back on track, yay!”). I feel like I’m a poser, almost. I feel like I should be spouting praise for Operation Beautiful and talking about how I had an apple and oatmeal for breakfast, and a healthy lunch, and a healthy dinner, and then indulged with a quarter-cup of frozen yogurt which completely satisfied my sweet-tooth, and now I’m going to bed because I’m waking up early for a run tomorrow! Right? That’s what all the other bloggers do. But instead, I’m talking about how I feel fat. And unfortunately, a post-it note isn’t going to make me feel any better about myself.

Over the past few months, I’ve noticed myself partaking in activities I’m less than proud of. I stand in front of the mirror for full minutes at a time. I turn. I suck in my stomach. Lift up my arms (hey, my boobs and stomach look GREAT when I do that! Why don’t I just walk around with my arms above ALL THE TIME). Turn to the other side. I pinch my thighs, I flatten my stomach with my hands. I make little *tsk tsk* noises of disgust.

On a run a few weeks ago, I dressed in running tights and a shirt. Checked myself out in the full length mirror and thought, okay, looking good. Then I saw myself in a store front window as I ran by and was almost stopped in my tracks. I looked…. well. Fat. I didn’t think “Oh wow, I look strong today.” I thought, “Damn my saddlebags are effing huge!”

I recently had a dream that I was training at a track, and ran into my high school coaches. They were having some track practice with the high school kids. I asked them if I could join in the workout, you know, just for old time’s sake. My coach looked at me for a few seconds before saying quite simply, “No.”

“Oh, alright. Um.. why not?” I asked.

“You’re not fast enough,” she said, as she looked me up and down. The implication was not that I wasn’t fast enough, but that I was too fat.

When I walk on the local campus, I find myself more and more comparing myself to all the college students there. “I’m fatter than she is. Ok, definitely skinnier than her…. Hm, that one’s about my build but she’s taller. Oh man I’d love to have HER body.”

The question is, WHERE THE HELL IS THIS THINKING COMING FROM.

Tonight I found myself reading Every Woman Has An Eating Disorder, and also We Are The Real Deal. For HOURS. Really, really interesting blogs. Which made me start thinking about eating disorders. I sighed wistfully to myself. “Why did I have to get binge-eating disorder? If only it was anorexia.”

[facepalm] x 23495843098592

The thought that followed? “Hmmm…. I wonder if I could pull off a really low calorie diet for a while, just to lose these next few pounds.”

*tires screeching*

What the FUCK?!

No, no, no, and no. First off, it wouldn’t work, because I would just binge after restricting. Secondly, even if it did work, that’s SO not healthy. And reverts back to my high school days.

I can kind of see where that thought is coming from though. These binges are so difficult to deal with, so why eat food at all? If I didn’t eat food, it would eliminate the issue completely. Listen, I KNOW that’s messed up, and I don’t actually logically think that. But I’m the queen of having illogical thought processes (always followed up by “Allison, you know that’s not logical.”)

When I was home for Thanksgiving, I went through my desk drawers. The bottom big drawer was filled with 4 or 5 notebooks of varying sizes, all of which said “Please do not read” on the front. It’s the one drawer/area in my room that my mother hasn’t cleaned out. It’s been 7 years or so….and yet they still sit there. Interesting.

All of these notebooks were full of calorie counts, lists of goal weights, thoughts about what I ate that day.

“Skip one meal every day!” I wrote to myself in pink pen. I had a smiley face after that statement, similar to one you’d see after a statement like “Tomorrow we’re going to a water park!” or, “My nails are the CUTEST shade of red right now!”

“Weigh in today: 133.5 pounds. I AM SO FAT. You HAVE to get under 130. Ultimate goal: 114.” I do this a lot, switching between “I” and “you.” I’ll address myself half the time as “I”, but then the other half, address myself as a third person, separate from my actual self.

“Cereal: 150. Milk: 50. Clif bar: 240. Pasta: 200. Sauce: 50. Total for the day: 690. Cals burned: 440. Net intake: 250.  SO HAPPY! Just keep this up, you can do it!”

And then

“I ate so much today =( I SUCK. I’m so fat and stupid, why can’t I do this”

And then

“Tomorrow is Day One! 2.5 pounds per week, this time, it’s going to happen.”

On another page later on, I listed everything that I wanted to eat at that time, I guess. It flowed over onto the back page, too.

“Reeses peanut butter cups. Chocolate ice cream. Whipped cream. Bread with butter. Bread with olive oil. Brownies. Pizza with extra cheese. Tortellini. Fettuccine alfredo. Mars bars.”

In another notebook, I had clippings of Kate Moss.

Sigh.

I bring all of this up because these feelings of “being fat” are so very high school to me. Why am I backtracking like this? It’s almost like a relapse.

The fact that I entertained the idea of a very low calorie diet scares me. I would never be able to do it, I realize (because of my bingeing), and that scares me too, a bit. It reinforced the feeling of OMG FAILURE on me.”Maybe I could do -” “Nuh uh, you could never do that, failface! You FAIL!”

I also realized today that I really don’t think I could just eat normally right now if I wanted to. If I give myself permission to not diet, then I’ll just binge. If I tell myself not to binge, well then I’ll diet.

I don’t know how a simple weight watchers diet got so out of control, but it’s not ok.

I think I will call that ED clinic back tomorrow after all.

Recap of things in no particular order:

I had an AWESOME run this morning. I met up with Meghan and Elina and we did a solid 6 miles. I ran 1.9ish there to meet them, and then 1.9 to get back to my apartment. All told, I ran 9.7 miles, at an average pace of 9:19!

Totally sweet, and a post-marathon PDR. =D

I didn’t know how the run was going to go. I woke up feeling kind of meh, and a little fuzzy from a couple glasses of wine I had had the night before. But once we started going, I felt great. It’s always SO much easier to run with other people than to run alone. I know I always say that, but every time I run in a group I’m always so surprised at how quickly and easily the run goes by.

Second point of interest: I don’t think I’m going to do that intensive out-patient program. At least, not right now, anyway. I just don’t think I have the time, however, if things get worse from here on out, and I find that I DO eventually want/need to drop some other things in my life to go do the program, I know it’s there for me. She said I could join whenever I wanted to – there’s rarely a waiting list, and all I have to do is call her and make an appointment to start.

However, I do think that it would be a good idea for me to keep looking for other possible therapy options. So there’s that.

And now, it’s time to (ugh) clean the entire apartment in preparation for BAD MOVIE NIGHT.

Unfortunately, I doubt that my lifelong dream of working at Charm City Cakes will be realized any time soon.

However, perhaps I’ll find myself featured on Cake Wrecks one day.  >.>

HOWEVER. My tree-decorating skills have honed themselves to a sharp point of awesomeness.

Check out that popcorn ‘n’ cranberry shit. Big time!

If you plan to string together cranberries and popcorn like I did, then, please,

1. Make sure there are no mice in your apartment.

2. Don’t stab yourself with a needle multiple times.

3. Don’t get the string of popcorn/cranberry tangled up in itself, because

4. YOU WILL GO INSANE.

Consider yourself warned.