|Maybe the days of demolishing one of these in under a week are behind me.|
For whatever reason, I pointed our cart to the Candy Aisle. Most of the time, I can walk past that area of Sams with merely a wistful glance. I know those aisles are full of things that are the nutritional equivalent of the guy who's a good-lookin' asshole: fun to be with for a moment, but just really bad, bad, bad for a gal's mental health, sense of self-worth, and overall general well-being. And usually, I can resist because I KNOW there's nothing good about heeding the sugary siren call of the Candy Aisle. It's just that on this particular day, I felt as though I'd somehow earned a stroll down through those shelves.
"Mommy," Zoe said as we headed down this path to perdition. "I think this is a bad idea!"
"Nah," I said. "We'll be okay. I'm not gonna go nuts or anything."
Right the, I tipped that bright yellow 24-bag box of Peanut M&Ms into the cart and scanned the barcode.
"Mommy!" Zoe said, her eyes as big as full-size Peppermint Patties. "mmmmmWHAT are you doing?!"
"Mind your business," I said, and casually rolled us out of the Candy Aisle.
Zoe had a bag or two of those M&Ms. Within a week, I had devoured the other 22 bags.
On one level, it's funny, because for someone who can put away candy like I do, I don't show it too much. I'm pretty much as average as it gets- slightly on the heavy side. Chubby.
However, what makes it Really Not Funny is that I work out every day. Remember my post from yesterday? I worked out 100% of the days in June. I usually work out at least 80% of the days in any given month. The thing of it is, I do NOT look like I work out at all. I'm as average-looking as average-looking gets. I am pre-obese, according to my smartass scales. I have been called chubby.
This isn't okay with me.
And while I was in a Skills Lab with my Health Coach lab-partner last Saturday, we were laughing about my bad habit concerning Nutella, and these very damn M&Ms, when all of a sudden, she stopped laughing and said, in a very nurse-tone of voice (she's a nurse in her life outside coaching), "April-girl, you are stronger than that Nutella, you know. You are stronger than whatever it is that makes you want to hide in the closet and eat a quart of Nutella and a retail box of Peanut M&Ms. You are stronger than this."
Not many things stop me cold, but this did. It stopped me in the moment, and it has given me reason to pause at many points throughout the days since Saturday.
I am stronger than this.
The M&Ms are long-gone from my house (but not my hips!). The Nutella is still here. And I've had moments where I really wanted a big spoon of it. And I have thought, and said out loud to myself,
I am stronger than this!
I am stronger than this.
You know what? I believe it this time, and I am going to live as though I'm stronger than whatever makes me want to eat all the sweets in sight. I'm tired of being the "short, chubby girl." With the work I put in at the gym, I think I've earned the right to look like the "short girl who could bench-press a Mercedes." So that's who I'm going to start treating myself like. And see where that takes me. I think that girl would demand a little more respect from herself and others than I generally settle for.
I. Am. Stronger. Than. THIS!