An Epiphany, of Sorts

So you all know my recent weekend caloric misadventures, as well as my on-going struggle against Oreos (little bastards that they are).

While I was running on the elliptical tonight I believe I had an epiphany:  Instead of being upset about what I did eat, I should be upset about what I didn't eat.  In other words, because I was chowing down on sugar-laden desserts (which I love, don't get me wrong) I didn't have the stomach space for the good fruits, veg, and protein that my body needs.

The familiar quote of not being allowed to have dessert until I finished dinner came to mind.  I'm not tied to the idea of cleaning a plate (especially if what's on the plate isn't necessarily healthy), but I think the notion behind this (that is, fulfill your dietary requirements before you see what caloric mischief you can get into) is relevant.

I should be trying to focus on my health requirements, but if I get all upset about how I've spoiled a diet, I really do take the eye off the prize.  Yes, we all slip and slide and eat something we shouldn't, but do we make amends with our bodies for giving it the wrong fuel? 

And then why the landslide?  Among addicts (alcohol, drugs) they say "One is too many and a thousand is never enough."  In other words, what you want to put in your body is not actually giving you what you really need, and in fact, is taking you further and further away from it.

I'm not saying abstain from the foods that are triggers, but one should really understand why it's a trigger.  I should really know why street vendors at parades make me salivate the way they do.  I should practice that sacred pause long enough to identify whose voice is speaking -- my stomach or my mind.  If I can't figure out where the voice is coming from, I should wait until it introduces itself.