celery trigger
1970-01-09, 3:41 p.m.

157 lbs.

So far today: 4 big pieces of celery and salsa.

1 diet dr. pepper. 2 coffees.

Well, I didn't run very well last night. Hopefully my run after play practice tonight will be better. I surfed TF for several hours last night. That was pretty motivating.

A triggering moment: Last year, at about 145 lbs., I went on a trip to Chicago with my friend, M, to run the Shamrock Shuffle (5 miles).

M is perfect, with blonde hair, blue eyes, perfectly white teeth, and just plain beautiful. She has had her fat years (although she only ever got up to like 155), but now she is in this thin stage and I am totally envious of her (it was flip-flopped 2 years ago, when I was at 120 and she was around 140).

We first went to Milwaukee to visit her friend. We stayed in a hotel the first night. Before we checked in, we went to the store to get some food stuffs. I was all about getting these baked chips, but all she wanted was some pretzel sticks and celery. We also got some salsa. That night, we went to dinner and she ate a plate of cottage cheese while I had chili and a tray of different exotic cheeses and fruit. She had some fruit, but would not touch the cheese. Why do I remember all of this? Back at the hotel, we ate our snacks, me with my chips and salsa, her with her celery. And I remember her long, thin, tan legs against the hotel bedding, as she crunched away and we watched MTV. Later that evening, her friend came to visit, and I pretended to sleep as I listened to them talk. He was a friend of hers from college, and kept telling her how great she looked, now that she'd lost weight (at this point, she must have been about 114). She kept laughing and demurring (I remembered how that had felt, and I missed it so much). The next day, we ran the race, and I was huffing and puffing to keep up with her. She had to slow down for me, and I remembered my chubby reflection in the windows as I ran, compared with her lithe runner's body, her skin-tight running tights and her blonde hair pulled perfectly back beneath her white baseball cap. She looked rich and perfect, and I felt dowdy and undisciplined. God, I hate(d) this feeling.

So why haven't I changed yet? Thus with the celery this morning. It reminds me of that time. M always said it was routine that saved her, getting up in the morning to work out, having an egg-white omelet, green beans for lunch. And I know she was (is) so anti-social to maintain this lifestyle, and she's gone through so much depression, but she's fucking beautiful, and I am a cow.

I need to cultivate a routine, like I did when I was in college, living on my own. Workouts came before all else, and I picked apart my naked baked potatoes and ate my vegetables with salsa in bed before sleep. I was getting thinner and thinner then... and now it should be the same. I am on my own, no one to distract me. Why do I give in to my own weakness? I am a strong person - independent. I must remember that.

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