Sustenance vs. Sustenance

Since the start of the year, things have been going well, I must say.  I'm losing some of the honeymoon/holiday weight I gained.  I've managed to sucker myself into a small strength training regimen twice a week.  I'm still running outside here and there despite the snow, ice, and creepy footprints in the snow that look just like mine only going exactly the opposite way.  Either I'm sleep running my route backwards or I have a shoe doppleganger (or just a regular doppleganger).  All I know is that if I see him in a mirror, I'm not going to any theatre shows for a while.

Anyway, none of this has any connection to where I thought I was going with this entry.  My point is that I've been really damn good.  So good that I can't remember the last time I pulled into a Taco Bell, and whenever I think about doing so I have some sort of internal dialogue about it.  It usually goes something like this:

Fat Brent:  OOOOOHHH!  Taco Bell!

Fit Brent:  I know you love it, but it's not good for you and it will never love you back.  You know I'm right.

Fat Brent:  I know...

Fit Brent:  Besides, if Taco Bell really loved you, it would have never taken away it's Black Jack Taco in the first place.

Instead, I've been mostly making a lunch.  The few times I have stepped out and grabbed something, it's mostly been that Chipotle Chicken and Cheese on Flatbread over at Subway.  I swear a few years back I never went there, but since NBC's "Chuck" began brainwashing me with their shameless product placement that has changed.  Only two episodes left, so you guys better send something that will be permanently lodged in my brain and have a subliminal trigger that sends me to Subway every once in a while.

Miranda...

Again, not my point, not my point at all that I can get some toasted onions and green pepper with pepper jack cheese on it and then I'll load it up with some lettuce, tomato, olives, banana and jalapeno peppers, and just a dash of hot sauce in addition to the chipotle southwest sauce.  It's also most definitely not my point that it is somehow an orgasm for my brain.

"I eat 3 a day to help keep me strong"

Luckily that's not something that is too horrible for me food-wise, but you see where this is going, though.  The amount of chemical reward I can get from food is crazy sometimes.  So crazy it makes me wonder how long I can sit with my finger in the dam like it is now.  Can I really sustain a long-term healthy year?  That's the million dollar question for me right now.

I'm having some weird food-related thoughts that I would equate to the type of thoughts drug users have when they try to get clean.  I've caught myself fantasizing about mainlining all the remaining eggnog at Meijer.  If it's not that, in my head I'm building a fort of empty White Castle sleeves from a crave case and leading an army of fries through a moat made of chocolate shake to storm the castle.  I've even thought about a calzone the size of a sleeping bag that I could crawl into and eat my way out, or just be born in it like an egg or a pod as it provided the nutrients I needed to grow within it and emerge ready for the outside world.  I'm sorry, but that's just messed up.

When it's not bad foods it's just the sad truth that it's nearly impossible for me to not still be hungry, even when I'm eating things that are good for me and are allegedly filling.  I have some light speed digestion going on, nothing sticks for long, and if it's possible to eat celery to the point where you could actually gain weight, I think I could manage to do it (but won't because my wife finds celery to be kind of disgusting).  However I do think I could round up enough if I save the frozen celery I pick out of frozen stir fry veggies for her.  Sorry celery, sorry you're dying for nothing.

I guess I just know getting down to a weight where I feel I can also handle that 26.2 is going to be hard for me.  I know it's still possible getting there where I'm at weight-wise, but I don't want to do that.  I want to make it easier on me, my legs, and my heart, and who can blame me?  It's not like I want to go out running with two heavy dumbbells strapped to me, and knowing how much extra baggage you're carrying is really eye-opening.  How hard it is doesn't change the fact it needs to be done.  I realize it's not going to be easy for me, and there's a lot of rewiring I need to do with my brain and body before I can be successful.  

One wire at a time, though.  I just have to make sure I pull the right wires or this Bavarian Creme bomb will go off, and then the only thing I can do to save the city is smother it with my open mouth...