Miles of Pies

Whew, I've put a lot of miles on these here feet this week.  Wednesday we went 5.82 miles and yesterday I did 2 miles as well as some work with our 8 lb. medicine ball.  My dogs have been barking.  Howling.  My poor tootsies.
  I've been waiting (drooling, dreaming) for Breyers Blast Grasshopper ice cream since they stopped carrying it last year.  It's a seasonal thing, so it's been on my mind.  When we were in St. Louis, I saw it.  I gasped.  I drooled.  But I didn't buy it since we weren't going to be able to store it in a freezer and (for some reason) it seemed wrong to scarf down the whole thing in one sitting.  Anyway.  Salem didn't have it.  Columbia doesn't have it.  I went to another store in search of it on Wednesday night and when they didn't have it, I grabbed a little box of 2 peices of Butterfinger pie for me and Mike.  I thought, it's small so that's good.  I got home and looked at the nutritional facts.  387 calories for one piece of pie!!!!!!!!!  I was so bummed, but still determined to eat that delicious peice of fatty, sugary goodness.  After all, I had walked almost 6 miles that day and had been pretty careful about what I ate all day (and week.)  I offered one to Mike, who hesitated after looking to see how many calories it had.  He said he didn't think he'd have one, but if I wanted maybe he'd split one with me or something.  Then it hit me.  387 calories?!  That's a lot.  And if I want to lose weight, I have to make sacrifices.  I can't expect to shed pounds by eating whatever I want, whenever I want.  I am working too hard to exercise and watch what I eat to go crazy all the time.  Sometimes is okay, and I totally am going to splurge sometimes, but right now I'm trying to train my body to be healthy.  So I threw it away. 
  And then I sat down and sobbed. 
  I cried because I wanted to eat that pie so much.  I cried because I wasn't going to.  I cried because of all the wasted years.  I cried because food has always been such a fun, comforting, easy thing.  I cried because of how much I want to be fit.  I cried because of all the people who called me fat.  I cried because I was the worst of them all.
  I have somehow convinced myself that that's what I am.  I am Karen, and I am heavy.  I don't like to run, I don't like to work out, I don't like to sweat.  But guess what?  That's not me.  I am Karen.  There's a healthy person in there who will be much happier when I can buy the size I want.  When I can run with my kids.  When I can feel comfortable in a group.
  So I'm proud of myself.  But a part of me still wants that pie.  :)