SUGA, SUGA

Holy-Day-After-Thanksgiving Food Coma Hangover. Yes, I mean a food hangover, it’s a real thing  (on the “off-chance” it wasn’t before, it is now). Let’s just take a collective groan right here- skip the “om” and go right to the lion’s breath sigh.

I am fairly certain I consumed more calories yesterday than I did in the entire week prior. Seriously. Thank GOD for my secret sweat pants or I think I might have had to wear my pajamas the rest of this trip.

My grand idea early in the day was to just eat turkey and pie. That’s it. No sides. Just protein and a tiny slice of each of the four kinds of pie that had been sitting on the buffet and mocking me for the last ten hours.

I love pie. Pie = culinary happiness. If I were in junior high I would doodle “pie+me” all over my trapper keeper binder in permanent ink because that’s the level of sheer devotion I have to that incredible pastry delight.

So, when dinner started I scored a thick slice of turkey and was all set to stick to “the” plan. I had run the six mile turkey trot that morning, subsided solely on coffee and water and uh, other clear liquids all day and I was determined to make this meal count. For what, I have no idea, but if I’m going to have a cheat day, then it’s going to be a CHEAT DAY, dammit.

But you know how plans go. . . or errrrr, don’t. . . because then the food crack showed up, all disguised as steaming hot side dishes. Before I could even finish the glass of wine I used as a chaser for my pre-dinner cocktails, somehow magically on my plate were sides of sugar, carbs that would soon be sugar, fat, and fat covered in sodium. Yummy.

Would I like a second helping? Obviously. I am stretching my stomach out so it has room for pie later. Duh.

And pie. Oh lovely, lovely pie.  As I scooped ice cream on top of my berry and apple pie, whipped cream on top of the pumpkin, and just spooned the key lime straight up and in, I considered that I might regret this later, like a lot.  This prompted a few seconds of my rationalizing the potential health benefit of this homemade goodness, such as vitamin C in the squash and the lack of pesticides in the organic apples. ROB Michelle, ROB.

Then I decided to just CTFD, clinked forks with my cousin across the table and handled that shit.

Am I paying for it today? Uh, yeah, there is potential truth there.  I might have had a painfully slow run that reminded me that I am not actually in my twenties anymore and don’t recover like those born in the 1990’s either. That’s a tiny possibility.

But, there are some great lessons here in this Food Fest 2013 recovery. Lessons of mindfulness and letting go, of course, since what we resist, persists. The universe is going to keep on keepin’ on with this deal. Fabulous.

As a brief reflection, I am most satisfied with the total lack of guilt I have today. Honestly. This is kind of a big deal.

Yesterday is gone. What has been done cannot be undone. Worrying about it won’t get me anywhere. Other than in the case where reparations are due, carrying unease and fear about anything actually yields no positive results. A scarcity mentality is incredibly limiting. Sadly, it will manifest itself across your life in ways deeper than you may even recognize.

Am I saying to forget healthy eating altogether then and eat whatever you want regularly? Noooooooo. Absolutely not. Unless you are hoping to play a little Russian Roulette with your arteries and ride the emotional roller coaster that exists in the chaos of poor nutrition, in which case, go for it.

I am saying, however, that taking these opportunities to be an active participant in the present is worth its weight in gold, or. . . uh. . . pie.

For example, today I could have spent hours feeling badly about what I ate. I could have punished my body by doing intense rounds of exercise, cleansed the sugar out by detoxing all day and thrown the rest of that damn pie away. I could have. But I didn’t.

That is not the takeaway message I want to model for my children; that is not the lifestyle I choose to lead.

And yes, it is a choice. It’s not an accident, it’s not coincidence, it didn’t happen spontaneously. Developing an abundance mentality took almost as much work and practice as I had spent during the years committed to restraint resulting in depressed culpability. Almost, but not quite; and with such a better payout.

I chose to embrace the moment yesterday. I spent quality, enjoyable, indulgent time with my family. I enjoyed eating, a lot. It was great. It was mindfulness at its peak, actually. And I don’t feel badly about it. Not one bit.

Life is short; too short to skip out on occasional indulgences or let the fear of the great white metaphorical carb prevent me from enjoying the sweetness of our existence. Work hard, play hard. Live a balanced life. Live a mindful life. Enjoy the moment- every sugar laden mouthful.

 

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