I’ll be kind to myself and simply say that I haven’t kept up on my promise at all. Like, at all. Despite a week-long (and successful) stint trying out the Paleo diet, I’m still a regular at Wawa and two nights ago my dinner included some handfuls of Cocoa Puffs my brother’s family left here.
It happens,. Put it on my tab of failing to follow through on an endeavor. But I’m discovering slowly, tiny nuances here and there, that I’m not invincible. My body, I’m slowly coming to acknowledge, doesn’t spin gold from the nutritional straw I’ve been feeding it nonstop. My hips hurt sometimes, my knees hurt sometimes, my back aches. Wrinkles are starting around my eyes. My midsection is inflating again like what it did in college (a dark age for me as far as nutrition is concerned). I can’t drink caffeine like it’s water with no effect anymore. My heart races a lot now: caffeine, short bursts of activity like climbing stairs. Things that shouldn’t make a 25-year-old’s heart rate increase.
But as I write this, I’m sitting in work with a bad hangover. Nothing to make me renounce drinking forever and ever, but hitting on a buddy I was hanging out with for the first time and kiiind of accidentally breaking whatever glass decoration was in his bathroom is enough to make me wince. Anything to land me on an MTV show? Nope. But I’m tired of continually waking up after a night out thinking ‘aw crap.’
That’s the social aspect. Let’s get to the lovely parting gift all that drinking left me: a headache, shaky hands, racing heart, a stomach that’s alternately starving and ready to vomit at the sight of food, and pissed-off intestines. I also reek of cigarette smoke and…I’m not sure what else?
(Me going to the bar, in a nutshell)
(and this one just makes me laugh)
So. All that to say it does help hammer home, or at least offer a helpful nudge, that it’d be better to take health seriously sooner rather than later, because my body had the nerve to grow into an adult one which requires care and doesn’t hide neglect wear and tear the way it did in years past. I’m also sick of feeling physically older than I am. Tight hips and all that at 25 years old. Nonsense! I hate seeing some elderly customers come in to the store who are wobbly, shaky, stiff. Or so many overweight individuals of all ages. I hate it and the thought of ending up there worries me, but I can’t seem to do anything different to jump the track that I’m pretty sure leads straight to those results.
Oh sure, I can yell at myself to go running, deride myself if I eat ice cream rather than an apple, and all that. I could be a great bully to myself. While that has a long track record of being a successful tactic for myself and other people, I’m going to flagrantly oppose tradition and try to find a way that’s a touch less guaranteed to fail. Only problem is that I have no clue what that actually is. I imagine I’ll be doing a lot of Pinterest research. And patience, I suppose. Tiny problem with attaining patience, though, is you have to have to be patient to achieve it. Of course such is the case with all the virtues.
Well dear thousands upon thousands of readers, I’m off to buy a replacement knickknack for whatever the hell I broke in that bathroom, and will hopefully be checking in sooner than four months from now. Adios!