The organization I work for planned a bridge cleanup and solicited the local supermarket for a donation of baked goods. All we really wanted were some hot dog and hamburger rolls and cookies for dessert. The supermarket was overly generous in their response. Yesterday I walked into the kitchen of our office building and was immediately overwhelmed by the scents of sugar and cinnamon.
The room looked like someone had knocked over a bakery truck and hauled all the loot to us. Boxes of doughnuts sprinkled with sugar or iced with sprinkles. A dozen four packs of muffins. Half a dozen loaves of Cuban bread. Packages of mini-scones. Bags of bagels. There wasn’t an inch of available counter space and additional booty was packed in bags resting on the floor.
Temptation to the infinite power permeated the atmosphere, luring me to the dark side. This on the week when I have been working so hard to stick to full liquids and mushies and getting myself more solidly on track. I was doing great, too.
I wish I could say that I stood my ground, strong against the gravitational pull of carbs and calories. I wish I’d fled the kitchen, clutching my protein drink like a lifeline. Unfortunately, it’s like my common sense and desire to stay on the wagon got obliterated by the sight and smell of all the junk. Sad to say, I succumbed to a scone.
Not a full-sized one. It was a mini-blueberry, but that doesn’t matter. The point is that I ate it even while my brain was saying, “Don’t do it.” The bitch of it all is that it wasn’t even that tasty.
I’m annoyed at my own lack of fortitude and the fact that I caved to an inferior product. Honestly, I don’t even think I’m upset about the fact that *gasp* I ate carbs! The occasional carb is not going to wreck the overall effort. It’s the behavior, the action of giving in to the compulsion to eat just because I was surrounded by the stuff.
This is why I keep the food addict’s equivalent of a dry house. I don’t pretend right now that I can keep these things in my own home. If they are here, there’s too much likelihood that they will be consumed. I have reached the recovery point where I won’t, under 99% of the circumstances, leave the house to hunt down this kind of snack. (The 1% exception was that cupcake urge around the hurricane weekend.) That’s progress. Knowing my own limits and boundaries is also a sign of progress and improvement. The occasional cookie or light snack when out for a meal? Those I can handle. Walking away from the equivalent of a bakery storefront in my own office building? Not so much.
The good news is that I didn’t stuff my face with muffin after doughnut after cookie. After the lapse, I got back on track. It doesn’t feel like eating the scone triggered a binge-worthy craving for moremoremore carbs. Hopefully I didn’t impede the rest of the progress that I made this week and all will be well with the numbers on the scale. I took the pooches for a bridge walk last night. I’m waiting for it to cool a little more tonight and then we’re going for another walk. Tomorrow is my Saturday Zumba class.
After you tumble from the wagon, it’s important to climb back up as soon as possible.