To Run or Not To Run (aka the working title of my memoir)

I woke up with a strong urge to weigh myself this morning. This instinct crops up whenever I think my weight will be especially low (like after taking a giant poop or doing a Bikram yoga class) or high (like after eating chocolate chip pumpkin bread, plantain chips, AND ice cream like I did last night). I want a reason to justify whatever choice I'm going to make about my day--like whether I should go for a run or write first (the choice I was making this very morning). Of course I want to run because part of my brain is still telling me that eating sugar is "bad" and I am a "bad" girl for eating so much sugar yesterday and this "bad" girl needs to be punished (cue sexy music ramping up and then a record scratch when we realize the punishment is just doing sit-ups until I want to puke). Part of what I'm working on with Intuitive Eating (aka the way normal people eat) is giving myself permission to eat all foods without having to "deserve" them. I don't need to buy into the insane equations in my brain--"You can eat this pumpkin bread now if you promise to run 5 miles tomorrow and eat nothing but protein shakes and egg whites for a week!" Also, what do I think that number is going to tell me?! It's like I think I'm a wrestler and if I don't get into a lower weight class, my whole career and life will come crashing down. That's never* the case.

Weighing myself is like shaking a magic 8 ball to decide if I'm worthy of being alive and taking up space. I ask the scale, "Should I run before writing this morning?" If the number is higher than I thought it means, "Run immediately! Ignore your body's hunger cues! You're not hungry, you're fat!" If it's lower than I thought, "Also run! You can make this number even smaller--but first you can have a sliver of pumpkin bread to reward yourself! Just take a millimeter off the entire perimeter so Jennifer doesn't notice any is missing. Okay maybe 2 millimeters. Or 3. Maybe an entire row of it. Oh no. You're doing again it you big fatty!! TIME FOR A RUN!" In either situation, what I'm not doing is writing. Funny how that works. My obsessive body and food thoughts keep me from showing up for life--taking action, following my creative impulses, doing what it feels right to do. Showing up means recognizing the saboteur voices in my own mind for what they are and politely asking them to be quiet please. Showing up means asking my body how she feels instead of asking the scale how I should feel. So, how do you feel, body? Well, I'm a little sore from yoga yesterday. I am hungry. I would like a scramble with roasted vegetables, pesto, parmesan, and goat cheese please. And also an almond milk latte (maybe pop some Pumpkin Pie Spice in there just to mix things up a bit). And I would like to eat this at my desk so I can write and look out the window. Oh! And let's drink some water too, we need that! (Water not pictured because it's in an ugly glass.)

I finally understand why people take pictures of their food. For me, this picture means I took care of myself today. I listened to my body and gave it what it was asking for. I am treating myself with gentleness and compassion. I am choosing to nourish my body instead of beat it up. I'm also choosing to show up and write this post instead of falling for the temptation to "Go for a run because you'll feel like enough if you weigh less!" I'm excited to say I have no idea how much I weigh right now, but I know it's enough for my body to work and function and write this, and I'm grateful for that. And here's the face I'm deciding to love today!

*The only time my weight did matter was that one time I went bungee jumping. Bungee jumping was a birthday gift for my BF at the time--a gift he had no interest in, and neither did I really, but we both did it to say we did it, and here I am saying I did it, so I guess it was all worth it. Anyways, I was right on the cusp of the weight categories and the guy put me in the higher weight category, giving me extra strong bungees, which gave me extra strong whiplash and my neck hurt for a week. Weighing 5 pounds less on that particular day would have been great.