I feel like Roy Rogers and Dale Evans when it comes to dieting. In other words, I'm back in the saddle again. It happened oddly -- I guess tragedy got me here -- to the point where I am exercising and eating well just to relieve stress, improve my quality of life as well as prolong my life.
If you've been following my story you know by now my mother was diagnosed with stage IV terminal breast cancer. Its everywhere. I'm scared. Everytime I talk with her I'm missing her and she's not even gone yet. I try to take in every bit of her essence. I write down her words of wisdom because i fear I won't be able to remember them when she passes, I no longer take my laptop when I'm visiting with her because I don't want my attention diverted.
Preparing to lose someone is the worst feeling in the world. Too painful really to write about, talk about or even think about. The amount of tears I've shed could perhaps fill the red sea.
One thing this entire ordeal has taught me is that life is precious, unpredictable, elusive and woefully short.
My eating is fueled by stress. I grab carbs to feel comfort -- which means that my weight is up and down and I wear my stress on my body much like one might wear one's heart on their sleeve.
I promise myself and my mom that I will take care of this body. I travel now pretty frequently to visit my mom and instead of grabbing the first big mac when someone steps out of their lane (figuratively) and does something or says something that offends -- I take a walk.
My fridge is filled with lean meats and vegetables so when I do decide to have a meal its not going to hurt me, make me gain weight or clog my arteries.
I no longer see my work as stressful because I've changed my perspective. I'm really lucky to have a chosen field that I derive enjoyment from but that also helps others.
Each day now, I walk around a local track and everyday I feel stronger and more able to face my responsibilities.
I also am grateful every minute, every second for the time my mother has to be in my life on this earth.