Emotional Eating Can Suck It.

My sore muscles are singing a song of love today.
Why love my sore muscles?
Don't we usually complain about the pain of our muscles and describe how much we loath the very thought of doing one more crunch?
Well, that's usually me too. The only way you would find me running is away from a zombie outbreak or onto Daryl Dixon's bike. And since neither of those will be happening any time soon (Norman???), I doubt you will be seeing me running in the near future.
Let's talk emotions for a minute. I don't know about you, but mine are in the can. And since, well, forever, I've frequently drowned my emotions in luscious chocolate and long-John donut custard. And that is pretty much what I have been doing for the last two mnths. I'm pretty sure some potato chips have made their way in there as well. Maybe.
So, while my daughter, let's call her little N, was gone for her 4 days, I was filled with dread of the quiet, the boredom, the loneliness. Seriously, what does someone who has lived for their child and family do when they have suddenly been thrust into this life that was totally unexpected and, to be honest, extremely boring?
I've been doing the whole movie watching and The Walking Dead obsessing since we've been living in the deep woods. Books are a huge love affair to me, but how do you consume yourself with a story when you can't concentrate on the words.
And that refrigerator was calling my name. I was all alone. I could do what I wanted without the guilt of another person counting how many chips I've had or exactly how much of that dip will be left for later. (Do people do that, or is all in my imagination?)
That familiar feeling of self guilt and disappointment set in. Then the memory of the too full, sick feeling you get when you eat way too much crap. And ultimately the fat food hangover that would inevitably follow the next day.
I'm not feeling it.
I just don't freakin' want it.
Instead, I grabbed the IPad, found the old 30 Day Challenge I started how ever long ago, and got to it. My unused, lazy muscles have protested all the way. And when I was done with day one, I found some Yoga to do as well.
Laying on the ground, resting after doing my best at working out, I felt fantastic! In pain, but fantastic. Invigorated. Empowered.
I've heard for so long that when you are down and upset, work out instead of grabbing junk food. I always scoffed. But maybe it's worth a second thought.. Because for the last few days, instead of wallowing in self pity and eating anything that looked good, I worked out. I stuck pretty well to my Weight Watchers (self followed- another story for another time), ate carrots and measured out peanut butter instead of spoons fulls, fruit instead of chocolate, cried when I had to, and lost a pound.
Sore muscles and healthy eating has won out over rolling my too-full body off of the couch to get another cookie.
And it feels pretty great.