Singing for a smaller me

I have a slight problem: Put a piece of candy in front of me, it's gone in fifteen seconds flat. You can probably tell this isn't the kind of candy eating problem where I take a small bite, put it down, take another small bite, put it down, and so forth. Oh, no, no, no, this is the "ZOMG, WANT CANDY, MUST SHOVEL CANDY IN MOUTH BEFORE SOMEONE ELSE TAKE CANDY" kind of problem. Really, I'm like a candy eating monster. HULK SMASH IF YOU TAKE AWAY CANDY!!!!

Anyone else get that kind of desparation when confronted with a piece of chocolate?

Yeah, to an extent, my relationship with food used to be that way too: "Oooo, food, must eat before food disappears everywhere." Seriously. I have no idea where or how this attitude about food/candy came from, but at some point in my sick and twisted little world, I started to feel like if I didn't eat it now, it would disappear and I'd never be able to eat it ever, ever again. nOW, Through hard work and a whole lot of crazy effort, that whole food and me eating thing is a lot more manageable. Candy though? That's an entirely different story.

For the longest time, my solution has been to simply avoid eating candy. Entirely. Which takes every ounce of will in my freaking body. Especially with the jar of candy next to my boss' office calling my name every time I walk by it. Hell, I don't have to walk past it to hear it calling out to me, I'm sitting at my desk right now and I hear it. GAHHHH!!!!

This is not a solution that works in the long run. Fact of the matter is, candy is everywhere and I love candy. I need to find a way to approach it so as to enjoy a little and understand (emotionally AND logically) I can always have more later.

And I have no damn clue how to go about doing that. I'm working on it. Really, I am. For the time being, I'm letting myself have one piece of chocolate a day (or more if I have the Points left) because avoiding it wasn't working.

The Sunday Hike

I apologize in advance, I'm terrible about relating stories that happened in the past. This will probably be REALLY boring.

Sunday morning, some friends invited me out on another hike. There I was, laying like a slug on the couch (okay, not laying, but sitting), contemplating dragging my butt out of the house and driving the forty-five minutes to some out of the way Open Space Preserve. Bear in mind, I live in California in the Bay Area, it was sixty some odd degrees this weekend.

Really? Should there be any debate on this matter? The weather was gorgeous and it was a convenient way to get a good hour plus of cardio in. Logic won out, along with the fact that - in that kind of weather - what kind of idiot stays in? So I rushed to pack some snacks, tossed on some comfortable clothes and ran out of the house to make it on time.

Oh my god. So happy I decided to go (And - for all that I thought I'd be late - I was the first one there). There's this view overlooking the Santa Cruz Mountains at the hike's mid-point that's just breathtaking. Definitely a place I'd go again. The picture doesn't do it justice, but here you go:

The Deets:

Location: Long Ridge Open Space Preserve
Distance: 4.5 miles
Total Time: 2 1/2 hours at an easy pace with plenty of breaks to admire nature
Difficulty: Moderately Easy (not a beginner beginner hike, but simple enough)
Calories Burned: Nearly 900?? (Thank you, Bodybugg!)

I'm constantly boggling over the things I can do now, and over how much I missed before. It makes me realize I'm not willing to miss one more day of living. Now, I'm not crying over spilt milk: the past is the past and I can't change who I was, but I can change who I am and who I will be.