what we do with what we do. do do be doo bee do

Sunday I drank a bottle of beer and ate a whole lotta corn chips. I'm not telling you this as some form of confessional, but rather, to acknowledge that every now and then this kind of thing happens. WW and the like don't really leave room for this kind of behaviour, and while it may not be "normal," it has happened more than once in my life (or even this year), and I've actually come to see it as acceptable, every now and then. I'm telling you this because lately I've been thinking that the indulgence is not the problem. We do this, and yes, sometimes it feels like weakness or getting off track, or losing control, but I'd argue that all of those feelings are normal-- part of the process. The deal is, it's what we do with those feelings, and how much space we give them, and where we take them, that can get really messed up. The problem isn't indulgence, it's self-flagellation, it's jumping off the see-saw high in the air after an indulgence or a lack of exercise or whatever it was that pushed that other side down so damn hard. It's not fighting back.

When I had my beer and chips, I wanted them. I also knew I'd exercised a lot during the week and that the week ahead would carry another 6 days of hard work and riding in. Oh, and I had my period, and that justifies many indulgences normally viewed as beyond decadent.

So I'm not bruised and battered by this. It's part of me-- I got what I wanted (and I was moderate) and it's part of a picture that includes "playing hard" or some such description of how much exertion it takes to keep my balance, to get that see saw swinging the way I like it. And I like it. And I gotta go to work now.