Power of the Pause

Stop.

Hammertime.

Last week, I helped out my crazy friend Hannah who is the pied piper of high schoolers at our YMCA. We did a progressive all-nighter. From 9pm-7am (yes, you read that right) we entertained 75 high schoolers with food competitions, hamster ball races, ice skating, bowling, and snacks on snacks on snacks.

And Bojangles. Oh, and pizza. And Little Debbie was there.

It was temptation island. In the worst way.

The combination of being 37, staying up all night, and staring down the barrel of snack city was a lot for me. I thought I would feel sad, left out, a sense of unfairness that I can't eat like everyone else does. But this shift has taken place where I think...ok, if I eat more of this, I will feel physically crappy in about ten minutes. And for us emotional eaters, this is a big deal.

It's the power of the pause.

Here's another example: at night, I want to eat everything in sight. I want to sit down on my blue couch, catch up on my DVR, and bring over snacks on snacks. Until I am numb. But not until recently have I paused to ask myself: what will I feel AFTER the numb feeling of being overstuffed?

Yes, their shirts say "Snack Boyz."
Yes, they drove around a red van
filled with snacks. Yes, that is
my dream AND my nightmare.

The feeling of slight hunger is now more appealing to me than the feeling of being overstuffed. But wait, don't get me wrong. I have a lot of missteps. But the difference is that I am able to find my way again much quicker than before. One misstep doesn't turn into a lost day or a lost weekend. Progress.

Yes, I ate a slice of pizza at our all-nighter. Yes, I had a biscuit at Bojangles. But it wasn't three pieces of pizza. And it wasn't three boberry biscuits. And for someone who stuffs down her emotions with food, it was a victorious up-all-night.

-Liz

Food competitions with Ref Hannah.

You would think this gluttony would curb my desire
for donuts. Nope. Donuts make me GO nuts. Still.