On this Sunday morning, I shall pursue the idea of a weekend do-ver. But first...
Oh, Kids in the Hall. Ok, seriously, breakfast pics first. Then the whores.
Some hot coffee with unsweetened vanilla almond milk. Served in a huge [chipped] mug.
diced apples, warmed with cinnamon and waiting to be topped with oats.
Cinnamon-Apple Oatmeal! Simple mix of 1/2 cup oats, cinnamon, 1 tbsp. ground flax, cinnamon apples, splash of vanilla extract & splenda.
It was good. I had some braeburn apples that weren't as crisp as they seemed, sadly (not sure if it's just me, but my apples have to be über-crisp for me to eat them. If they're the slightest bit mushy, I can't stand them). So, instead of tossing them, I decided to use them for oatmeal. Not the most exciting bowl of oats I've had, but certainly not the worst. I'll probably make it again over the course of the week to finish off the mushy apples, but after that, meh.
Alright, so back to my weekend do-ver... Yesterday (Saturday) pretty much sucked. I woke up with food guilt from the night before (Friday; ended up eating my leftover fried fish that same night, along with a bunch of other crap I didn't need) and forced myself to run 3 miles on a partially-digested breakfast simply as a means of punishment for my crappy eating. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I've been letting a lot of the emotional and physical stress surrounding my recovery from binge eating build up and yesterday, it all came to a head. I may/may not have had a nervous breakdown. Totally lame. When evening time rolled around, I had calmed down and later went to bed, pretty much exhausted to my core. Then I woke up at 2 am, took some Nyquil at 3:20 am and finally fell asleep sometime after 4 am.
The whole time I was awake the middle of this morning, I was aware of how tired my body was, especially my hips. I decided that I wouldn't run today after all. My last day off from working out was the Thursday before last. At first, I was experiencing that good "Hey, I'm positively challenging my body!" kind of sore, but this past Saturday, it had turned into the bad "Hey, my body is fucking exhausted" kind of sore.
One thing I realize I've been in denial about is how long recovery is going to take. And I've totally been guilty of trying to rush through it. How could I not? I want to have a life a.s.a.p. and I want to stop being pre-occupied with food a.s.a.p.! Why would I want to stretch the process out any longer than I have to? But... It just doesn't work like that. Not in a matter of weeks, anyway. I've read various eating disorder recovery stories from other women and how it took some of them years. Does the idea of being recovered in years versus months terrify me? Yes. Do I need to focus on the time frame (which I don't necessarily have control over) every day and keep freaking myself out? No.
I have a tendency to make things harder for myself than they need to be. I think this is a habit that started during my early childhood. I can't place the blame on a specific incident or person... Perhaps I was just born that way? I dunno. From here on out, when I start to stress over something (be it food, fitness, work, money, etc.) I really need to make a conscious effort to ask myself, "What's a healthier way of handling this situation? What is the worst that could happen?" Usually, the worst-case scenario is never as bad as I make it out to be, so why go through the motions of placing unnecessary stress on my body? Buh.
ANYWHO, so before heading back to work tomorrow, I need to complete Operation: Weekend Do-Over. Aside from giving my body a break from exercise and starting the day with a healthy, filling breakfast, I'm also going to head out for some retail therapy. New pair of jeans, maybe a few new tops and a new bra, thanks to my $10 birthday coupon that Victoria's Secret sent me. Also, I shall head to the grocery store to pick up crisp apples and a few ingredients for the Turkey Zucchini Meatloaf recipe that I plan to make for dinner tonight. Easy-peasy. And also a reminder that instead of simply treating myself, I need to treat myself better. I've said it on this blog before, but it deserves repeating this weekend in particular.