About eight years ago, I had an eating disorder. It was some sort of bulimia. More specifically, exercise bulimia. I would eat about 1000 calories a day (or less) and work out for several hours. Some days, I had a net negative calories of 500 or more.
My body shut down and I couldn't lose weight. So I ate less and exercised more. I became afraid of food. I worked through it, but sometimes swing to the other end of the spectrum where I binge and over eat.
Yesterday was another good eating day. One hundred percent perfect. And because I ran the night before, I knew going into yesterday that I didn't need to run last night. That a couple good walks with the dog would be enough. But as Bernie and I were on a 45-minute walk after work, I kept thinking that I needed to get on the treadmill went I got home.
And I had the angel on one shoulder, devil on the other, talk with myself in my head. Eating well, eating clean, is 80% of the battle, exercise is only 20. I know this. Just like I know the difference between true hunger and mouth hunger, and yet there are times when I'm not hungry, when I'm actually full, and I will continue to eat. Because of the mouth hunger.
So last night, as I was battling in my head, I reminded myself of that cycle I was on in the mid-2000s, and that it was actually healthier that I just get in my 10,000+ steps, that I finish the evening on a high note with dinner and a protein shake for snack, and maybe another walk with the dog around the neighborhood, but that I didn't need to sweat, I didn't need to burn 400 calories in a half hour, that eating well, and moving, is enough one or two days a week.
If I keep up these healthy habits, there will be a time, not very long from now even, that I won't focus so much on this, that it becomes second nature. But for now, until that time, the thoughts will need to be constant. I need the vigilance until the obsession just becomes habit.