So here I am at the beginning of another year. I ran 900.3 miles in 2009. I walked 130.9 miles. (I'm a gadget gal and love my Garmin GPS watch.) In energy expenditure that's about 103,000 calories...what I'd need to lose 30 pounds. Yet, I'm 4 pounds heavier than the beginning of last year. Hmmmm...I guess I haven't done so well avoiding emotional eating. So I decided that in 2010, I'll keep a health journal. I started writing on the first. I've decided to record what I eat, the exercise I do, and how I feel - physically & emotionally. The next morning, I'll read the previous day's entries and give myself kudos for good choices and figure out why I made bad ones. Then I'll move forward with my day, trying to do better.
I started 2010 with a 7.5 mile race in Mendon Ponds Park. A hilly course that my running partner Russ and I pushed to do at a 10:30 pace. Good choice. I made pretty good food choices too. We celebrate Christmas with Mark's sisters. I took a small plate at dinner, had seconds of salad instead of lasagna. Again good choices. I also had four glasses of wine. FOUR glasses. Upon reflection, that seems a little excessive and more than I remember others drinking. So why did I do it? Why did I drink four glasses of wine? Because when I'm with Mark and his sisters I get sad. I miss Jim. I drank to stay in the game so to speak. While I had a glass of wine in my hand, I could be involved and not curl up on the end of the couch feeling sorry for myself. I'm not sure if that was a good choice, a bad choice, or just a choice.
Christmas just sucked. I hated that Jim wasn't there with Kate and the kids. That they all woke up Christmas morning without him. He didn't get to sit with Kate on the couch and watch the kids open their gifts from Santa. Kate didn't get to share their excitement with him, and Rach & Jake weren't able to run to him and show him what they'd just opened. It bugs me every day that he's not there to walk Rachel to school; not there to help build a race track for Jake's matchbox cars. But I have to learn how to not eat my way through the sadness, and that's what I'll try to learn this year.
2 comments:
I wonder what kind of grandfather my father would be - not the same, but it often leaves a hole in my life. (you are loved!)
Laura - It's probably more the same than it is different. Love makes it that way. Hugs.
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