Eat Here Now! And Now! And Again. And Maybe Just One More Time...

I've never been much of a stress eater.  When I get upset, I tend to avoid food.  My appetite diminishes.  I get more active.  And usually, I can't stop running.

But I'm gonna be totally honest: I haven't gotten off my butt in over 3 weeks and I have eaten just about everything in sight. 

Trauma.  Drama.  Sadness.  Whatever you want to call it, it has turned me into a garbage disposal.  A soft, squishier version of a garbage disposal who sits on the couch and thinks about cake.  A lot.  And lately, I have just driven to the store and bought some when that happens.  Well, maybe not the store.  I DO have standards after all.  But I have driven to Cupcake more than 6 times in under a month.  And I hit up just about every bakery in San Diego over the course of 5 days. 

One day, I stopped into Extraordinary Desserts for a snack:

Unfortunately, I had 4 of them...

Today I was looking through the photos on my phone and I swear there are more pictures of food than there are of my children.  Now, it's not entirely uncommon for me to photograph my food.  I used to blog about cooking all the time.  I love posting pics of fantastic meals to Facebook and remembering great dishes I've enjoyed; however, the sheer amount of food I'm consuming has quadrupled, and my amount of activity has hit the negative realm.  Therefore I am blog-vowing to turn the tables (literally!) and get back into a healthy routine.

I ran for the first time in over a month yesterday.  And today, my body hates me.  But when I get up tomorrow and force myself past that first, horrible, awful, terrible, angry mile and actually feel good for rolling myself off the couch, my body will forgive me and eventually it will start to reward me once again.

So bye-bye churros dipped in chocolate.  See ya later 18 raw oysters eaten every other day.  Adios Bagel Nation and Ye Ole Fashioned butterscotch sundaes.  This girl is getting off the buffet train and stepping back onto the treadmill. 

It was real.  It was fun.  But it's not real fun when you begin to swallow your clothes.

Wish me luck!