The (important) Civil War

I've been running 6-10 laps per day for about 4 weeks. It sucks. But I do feel good about the fact that it is happening and making a small impact, both actual as well as mental.

But the hardest part hasn't been the discipline to run - I can do that morning, noon, or night, and sometimes I have twice a day just because I have the time and get bored and know that it's a good thing, even though I dislike it for the most part.

The hardest part is the brain vs. body battle that takes place the rest of the day. What to eat, when to eat, what to drink, when to drink...It's a fight between the stomach telling me what I used to enjoy, what I should put into it, what I want to eat at that moment, and my brain telling me what's in the house, what would be best for me, what the possible consequences are of each choice, and the practicality of the situation at that moment. Then, there is the physiological situation of leg pains, back pains, and general exhaustion to consider. The best way I've found to win this battle is to eat less, eat better, only buy decent food even if I hate it because I know I'll eat it and be too lazy to go out and get something I'd like better, and sometimes to run before I eat and feeling too sick and tired afterward to eat anything at all.

But, yesterday I had a fish sandwich for lunch. With fries. And I flipping devoured those fries. And the fish sandwich, but slowly and enjoyably. And I had a beer with this lunch. Just one. A light one. And I did run in the morning, but only 6 laps, so I knew I'd be running that night to punish myself for falling off the wagon, and that this lunch would fill me up for the rest of the day (even if it didn't - but it did and I highly recommend the West Seattle Brewing Company). And I planned to run one extra lap to make up for the beer which I've been avoiding, so the "I don't want to barf on the track at the school where I work" factor also played a role in not eating too much.

But on the way back to the car from the restaurant, the friend I was with kindly thought of his wife and stopped in to Cupcake Royale to bring her home a treat. And that sounded pretty damn delicious (I had a few Oreos about 3 weeks ago and 2 beers since, so I was ready for some freaking refined sugar). But I thought it was my lucky day until I saw the limited selection with no flavors that sounded good. Until, upon my last passing glance, I saw the Coconut Lime cupcake with coconut flakes on top. That cupcake can go to hell for existing and tempting me, but hot damn I bought it in a flash (while making sure to point out to my friend it was his fault).

So I took it in a to-go box, because cupcakes are messy and I was full from lunch. But it was going to be mine that night. I looked at it several times before putting it on the shelf in the pantry when I got home in the evening. I spent a long time deliberating what to have for dinner, but was tired from a LONG day sitting in Seattle traffic and accomplishing nothing, so I laid down for a nap. When I got up, my back hurt, I took a few ibuprofen, and since I did this, I figured it was the best time to go running because the ibuprofen would also help with my shin splints (FYI if you are overweight just running 6-10 laps everyday without any other exercise will kill your shins). So I went. It was a great summer evening, my legs felt okay, and I got a full 9 laps in and felt good. I came home. And of course, my appetite was mostly gone. Except when I considered a small snack, I checked the pantry and there staring at my cute and adorable and lovable face was Mr. Coconut Lime, tempting my fat ass to eat the crap out of him. And the battle was once again afoot.

But the brain won. Wednesday I bought a palate of fuji apples because I went to Costco for gas and of course just HAD to go inside and buy something, and obviously my brain was winning the battle when I decided to buy apples as well. I remembered the apples while staring at the cupcake and cut up two (because if I'm substituting fruit for dessert food then I'm sure as hell not going to eat just one) and ate them while watching TV, having cut them up into thin slices so it seemed like I was eating more and they lasted longer that way.

A small victory.

And then today, I had coffee, an apple, and few chips with salsa, and that was it. And then I ran. And when I got home tonight after 12 laps, I rationalized the extra laps and gave in and opened the cupcake container. But instead of shoving that magnificent spectacle into my mouth in a single bite like I wanted, I began picking at it. And about half-way through, I realized that it was great, and I could finish it, but I would feel better (and probably actually be better) for stopping. The remaining half of the cupcake now resides in the kitchen trash.

All of this is to say that I feel as if my brain and body have reached an acceptable détente in their war with each other. They still hate each other just as the Confederacy still resents its loss to the Union, but each side is willing to give and take a little, as long as the body keeps up its part of the bargain and stays in the lead, with the conditions of the treaty being: run, run like hell, and run even more when the mind gives in a little and I make a mistake or two or decide to take a night off and go to a party.

The war rages on, but it feels like a minor victory has been won as my brain and body enter this uneasy period of "perestroika."