While on my recent road trip, the song (and potential blog post title) that kept running through my head was “I can’t get no… satisfaction.” Because what I realized, and maybe already knew but conveniently forgot, is that when I go on an eating binge, it doesn’t matter what I eat, or how much I eat – I’m never satisfied.
If I eat bread I want ice cream. If I eat ice cream I want candy. If I eat chocolate candy I want chewy candy. If I eat something sweet I want something salty. If I eat something creamy I want something crunchy. If you give
a moose me a muffin, I’m gonna want a lot more to go with it. One craving leads to another. When I go “off plan,” I fall hard and deep into my “all or nothing” thinking. I don’t just fall, I crash and burn. I eat. And eat. Rushing to get it all in before the proverbial restart that comes “tomorrow.” Or in this case, when I got home. So I ate myself into a stomach-ache. And felt no sense of satisfaction. Fullness, yes; satiation, no.
This binge didn’t start when the car pulled out of the driveway. The first, very long day, I ate my packed sandwich and my healthy snacks. For dinner I ate a salad at Wendy’s. Out of Kansas, through Colorado, into Utah, where I woke up in a budget motel the next morning, with no regrets yet, and heated my beans for breakfast.
And then it happened: viva Las Vegas.
We were making such good time and were so far ahead of schedule that we decided, rather than arrive at the LA motel too early to check in, we’d take a little detour and eat lunch at a local joint in Vegas. I have two words for you: fry bread. (I don’t usually eat fried food and I pretty much avoid bread!) We don’t get that particular delicacy here in the land of Oz. So, against my inner voice of reason, I ordered a lunch that was a heart attack on a plate. Then topped it with honey.
What happens in Vegas does not stay in Vegas! Once I got the taste in my mouth, my mouth was singing. And not in a good way. And thus the binge was born. By the time I went to bed in Los Angeles, I didn’t even delude myself that “tomorrow” would be another day. Pizza and candy and fro-yo, oh my.
On a positive note, I did make some good choices along the way. And walked so much on my only non-driving day that my feet were killing me! But overall… let’s just say it wasn’t pretty.
I had many, many hours in the car on the drive home to contemplate my eating. I thought about all the little things that went into the binge transpiring. And what it would take to ensure it didn’t happen again. Because, I’d like to think Mick Jagger is wrong – I CAN get satisfaction! But it comes from eating well, not eating crap. The satisfaction comes from my actions and my emotions, and from being in control, not from food.
And as far as my healthy lifestyle, Dorothy was right: there’s no place like home. I’m happy to have my my little home gym, my roasted veggies in the afternoon, and maybe most of all – my routine. And when I head out on my next adventure, which will likely be a return to LA, I’m going to reread this post. And pack my ruby slippers:) And remember that, in the words of Glinda, I had the power all along.