My phone taught me last night that NASCAR must be in all caps, so this title must be in all caps too because it's important.
Last night I had two beers, two chicken tenders and six french fries.
And while this may have never been a big deal before, it is to me now because I made myself a promise not to do these type of things except for one day a month. Which was not supposed to be yesterday...
I know it's not the WORST thing I could have done. I mean, two beers? That's nothing. Two chicken tenders and SIX WHOLE FRENCH FRIES?! I know, that's nothing too. Really. I know this sounds completely ridiculous that I feel the need to confess about this, but I have to because I think it actually taught me a really good lesson.
I've been really, really strict on myself about this whole eating clean thing. I'm SUPER committed to it. And I've talked about it before, how I don't do well with the guilt and conflicted feelings I have after allowing myself a "treat" or when things go off plan, like in this case. I am really hard on myself about it. And after last night, I'm starting to wonder if I'm helping or hurting myself by being this STRICT about it?
In a way, it's good. I'm learning to say no to a lot of things that I should be saying no to. Every time I pass through the bakery in the grocery store, I can say no to donuts and cakes and pastries because there's no reason I need to take them home and eat them all myself. When I'm at Costco and the pizza smell is in my face, I can say no because I know pizza is nothing but a comfort food and eating a block of cheese is everything but comfortable the next day. When I'm waiting in the self checkout line at Target staring down the candy selection, I can say no because I know there's no reason I should grab M&M's just because I'm bored waiting in line. When I'm at work and the kids are eating Nutella pancakes, I can say no because I'm a grown ass adult who probably already ate breakfast and knows what Nutella really is, lol. And at home it's really easy for me to say no since I have complete control over what I keep in the kitchen to begin with.
But when should I be saying yes?
Last night, was supposed to be really fun. Johns brother was in town with his company and he was totally nice and went ABOVE and beyond to include us in everything and get us these tickets and I spent the entire night beating myself up in my head about drinking beer and eating fried chicken.
I had absolutely no intentions of drinking or eating badly because I'm getting so good at saying no. No is control. And I like control. I ate before we left. I brought a few snacks. I offered to drive. I had it all planned out in my head. I'd be fine. But I wasn't.
Because I wanted to say yes.
I passed on drinking for a while. I had iced tea. I ate almonds out of my purse. And then when someone bought me a beer, I felt...relief. Like the fight was over. It was my chance to give up control. Because if I'm being honest with myself, which maybe I should have been from the beginning, I really didn't want to be the person eating almonds out of her purse like a fucking weirdo. So I took the beer even though a big part of me was saying, "NO Morgan, you can't have a beer you made a promise!"
And for the next four hours or so I went went back and forth between telling myself that I was a failure and telling myself that I was at a fucking NASCAR race. For probably the only time in my life. Spending time with my husband. And family I don't get to see often. In North Carolina which I may never see again come next week. I tried to relax about it, but the guilty thoughts kept creeping back up into my brain.
This morning I woke up with a sick stomach ache. In part because of the fried chicken, but partly because I knew I had to confess this. See, I have this group on Facebook of girls doing the 21 Day Fix with me, and every weekend or usually on Monday morning everyone comes out to vent or confess what they did that weekend - how they ate this or that, or how they had a social event that they decided to break the rules for. And I am always behind them 1,000% like, "GOOD FOR YOU! HAVE FUN! ENJOY YOUR LIFE!" Because the thing is I don't expect anyone else to be perfect...
But I expect myself to be. Which isn't fair. Shouldn't I allow myself to enjoy life and have fun too?
So that's what I learned last night from NASCAR. (I still am confused why it's all caps lol?) Life isn't all about having a flat stomach and getting 8 hours of sleep every night. It can't be "no" all the time, just like it can't be "yes" all the time. There has to be that BALANCE. (All cap style.) That one little word I'm having the hardest time with...
I play this game with myself sometimes, usually when I'm afraid to do something or I'm not sure if I'm making the right choice, where I ask myself, "will this matter when I'm old and dead?" And it kind of puts things into perspective for me. I think at some point last night I thought, I can either stick to my clean eating and this night will blend into the rest of my life...or I can have a beer and make it memorable. And I think I made the right choice. Sure, yesterdays choices will bleed into todays, as I've already put off my workout this morning and ate more than my daily "allowance" of carbs, but I can balance that out with tomorrows choices, right? No I don't feel totally okay with the choices still, but I think I needed it.
During those mini-arguments I was having in my head over whether or not to eat the fried chicken, I had this thought that I should have just stayed home. But I can't just stay home all the time. I know that's unhealthy for me, just as I should know that being too strict on myself is too.
LIFE LESSONS GUYS. I'm always looking for them. But I feel so much better now that I vented that out. And it's probably a good thing I broke the rules last night, because the next week is about to get hard. Up until last night I also had full intentions of eating clean while on the road this weekend and if I'm really being honest, I know that's not going to happen no matter how many almonds I bring. There's a very good chance McDonalds will end up happening, or something equally as "bad" and I have to remember that 'balance' word. And the fact that moving across the country to our new "home" is a memory I should try to enjoy, and sometimes that means throwing the plan out the window for a day or two and just living. A hamburger won't kill me. It's fine.
Ok. For real this time, SEE YOU IN TEXAS.