A perfect kinda day

I arrived in Atlanta last night at about 8 pm EST. I was tired from a long week and had a fitful nap on the plane. I was so excited to get to Elane's house and just lie down. Going to Elane's house is sorta like going to the literal manifestation of comfort and ease, if it existed as a thing and not a descriptive word. Her house has this incredible mix of smells that can only be described as soap, water, warmth, and love. It is incredible and reassuring.

I climbed into the bed and immediately became comatose. I slept until after 10 am which is pretty damn incredible for me these days. I sat on the porch and had a small breakfast this morning while the sunlight warmed my feet. I sat back on the rocking chair and read for a couple of hours with my Ipod on. The weather was absolutely perfect. I went back inside and had the most marvelous vanilla bean cheesecake known to mankind and fell asleep on the couch for the most luxurious afternoon nap. I eventually got up and moseyed around a little more and now I am awaiting a homemade pizza and a cold beer with Elane, her hubby Perry, and my roomie JoAnna. Good food, better friends, and some much needed R&R. Does life get any better?

*just in case you're wondering, I have eaten purely out of pleasure today, fully aware that upon my return I will have to resort to high fiber, low calorie, healthy food. But today, I am going to enjoy the food and just think about it tomorrow when I go for a run, but thanks for reminding me.

Confessions from a fat girl

It is 11:36 pm. I am alone in my house because my roommate is out of town. I have phantom hunger... when you think you're hungry and you know you're not. I want to raid the fridge.For God sakes, I can almost hear the fridge trying to coax me into a binge. I really, really want to stuff my face and then marvel at the sensation all the food will bring. I am in the middle of drinking a whole liter of water and getting a shower to deterr my cravings.

Tomorrow morning I will wake up feeling the following:

1. pride/confidence for not attacking the fridge tonight
2. shame for admitting I've EVER felt this way about food.

Don't worry. I'm not gonna do it. I know I will feel such tremendous guilt it will stop me from fully enjoying it. I just had to get out the actual frustration and such.

I wonder if Oprah felt this way at night when she was a fatty.

Now I get it

I got an Ipod for Christmas this year and was elated to finally get it installed and working. I started taking it with me to workout this week. This morning I went for my power walk and sort of jog because I woke up at 6:30 and couldn't go back to sleep. Somewhere between George Michael's Too Funky and Freedom (the 2nd and 3rd mile of my walk) I started to jog a little. I hit that wall after about half a mile. You know the one where you feel like your lungs might explode and render you useless. Then it was like someone gave me a shot of crack and the adrenaline kicked in. It was amazing! I picked up speed.

Now I understand why people get addicted to this workout thing. And how did anyone ever get along without an Ipod?!